Thrice Charmed
by reine Seele
Summary: Things are slow at Snake Mountain. What happens when a young girl needing help shows up? What does she need, and will Skeletor and his minions help? Will they succeed in defeating her brother? TrikexOFC, SkeletorxLyn. M for sex, violence, and language.
1. Foul Encounters

**Began: **4/14/05

**Finished:**

**Rating: **R/NC-17

**Characters: **All original + OFC and OMC, as well as various other OC's that are important to the plot of this story.

**Pairings: **Tri-Klops/OFC and Skeletor/Evil-lyn; non-con between an OMC and other OC's in later chapters

**Title: **Thrice Charmed

**Summary: **Things have been going slow at Snake Mountain. So slow, that even Skeletor doesn't feel like doing anything! What happens when a young girl shows up, claiming to need the help of Eternia's most evil sorcerer? What is it that she wants, and will Skeletor and his minions help her? Rated for violence, blood, gore, language, and sex.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything that belongs to the creators of He-man, but I do own anything that you don't recognize.

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Foul Encounters **

* * *

Evil-lyn yawned. This was, without a doubt, _the_ most boring week in the history of Snake Mountain. Not only had there been no attacks by the Defenders, but Skeletor had been unusually lackadaisical in his scheming. Not that she cared. It was nice, just being able to relax for a change. Even though she found her present company somewhat lacking in the conversational department, it was still nice.

Her "present company" happened to be Beast Man, who was currently grooming his fur. _How utterly, stupidly typical of him,_ Evil-lyn thought, turning an uninterested gaze towards her fuzzy companion. She watched him for a few minutes, long enough to witness the capture of an annoying flea that had nestled into his skin. _I am in desperate need of a hobby,_ she thought as Beast Man triumphantly squished the miniscule pest between his thumb and forefinger.

Deciding that anything was better than observing Beast Man's cleaning habits, Evil-lyn glided out of the room. She wandered the halls for some time, casually peeking into some of the unoccupied rooms to see if any of the other lackeys were doing anything worth while. Unfortunately, the only other cohort she was able to locate was Stinkor, and being in the same vicinity as him was the last thing that Evil-lyn wanted to do right now.

After making a mad dash for the nearest hallway with a breathable atmosphere, she leaned against the cold, stone wall in contemplation. There was nothing to do. That was the dilemma. So, the easiest solution would be to create something to do. That was easy. The hard part was actually deciding what to do, for there were numerous ways for a girl to amuse herself, and they were all equally entertaining.

_I wonder what Skeletor is doing………. _And just like that, Evil-lyn had an answer to her problem. Skeletor……….he was so much fun. It was so easy to ruffle his feathers, something that Evil-lyn was exceptionally good at. The mere thought of irritating Skeletor brought a mischievous smirk to her face.

Making her way to the throne room (or the pouting room, or the brooding place, or the ranting zone…), Evil-lyn let her mind wander over all the methods that she had used in the past to rile Skeletor up. There were a lot of them. Some had failed miserably while others had been fantastically successful. _What to do, what to do_, wondered the sorceress as she neared her destination.

Upon reaching the gigantic, iron doors that blocked her way into Skeletor's throne room, Evil-lyn took a moment to smooth her ruffled skirt and adjust her helmet. After all, a lackey had to look good when antagonizing her Lord. Her spine tingling with anticipation, Evil-lyn flung open the doors with her staff and dramatically trounced into the presence of Skeletor……….plus one other.

It was unbelievable. Of all the days to be discussing protocol with the minions, today just had to be it. Tri-Klops was standing at the foot of the throne speaking urgently with Skeletor. Cursing silently, Evil-lyn ducked behind a column of stone before she was spotted. As stealthily as possible she made her way closer and closer, until she could hear snippets of the conversation being held.

"Shouldn't we……….doing……….I mean……….sitting………." That had to be Tri-Klops; his voice, although deep, was much raspier than those of the others. There was a short, uncomfortable (at least, it felt uncomfortable to Evil-lyn) silence before he received an answer.

"If you're………. damn………. go……….worth while!" Skeletor's voice; Evil-lyn would recognize it anywhere. It sounded gravelly and strangely high-pitched, but having their face burnt off will have that effect on a person.

Curious as to what they were saying, Evil-lyn crawled a little closer, finally managing to make it behind the throne. "All I'm saying is that we should at least be _thinking_ of a plan to capture Eternos!" Tri-Klops again. This time, Skeletor was quick to answer.

"What gives you the idea that we're _not_ thinking, O Noble One?" His voice, although thick with mockery, sent chills down Evil-lyn's spine.

She peeked around the stone platform that she was hiding behind, attempting to get a visual. _Damn!_ she thought, as she could only get a glimpse of Tri-Klops. His stance was defensive, with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his muscular legs apart, but his head was held high and his shoulders were set back; a sign of defiance.

"Look at us!" Tri-Klops nearly bellowed, throwing his arms out to emphasize his point. "We're just sitting around! Shouldn't we be plotting, or attacking, or _something?_!"

Evil-lyn was positive that if Skeletor had had eyebrows they would be arched in surprise; her own were already creeping up her forehead in disbelief. Nobody ever, _ever_ shouts at the Overlord of Snake Mountain, not unless they have a death wish. Evil-lyn waited with baited breath, wondering what was going to happen. The two men looked at each other and no more words passed between them. They almost seemed to be sizing each other up.

Skeletor was sitting a little straighter and his head was slightly tilted to one side in contemplation; Tri-Klops's outburst had clearly surprised him. He hadn't expected one of his most loyal followers to exhibit such insubordination, and even if he had, it certainly wouldn't have been Tri-Klops that he had pictured.

Finally, Skeletor let out a derisive snort and motioned his Havoc staff at the cavernous opening at the other side of the chamber. "If you're so hot to do something, then go do it yourself; I've no patience to be bothered by the likes of you." Tri-Klops looked as if he was about to speak, but swallowed his words as Skeletor's empty eye sockets blazed with a furious red spark.

Turning around, head slightly lowered in defeat, Tri-Klops made his way out of the room. Halfway across the threshold, Skeletor spoke up. "Oh, and Tri-Klops………." There was a faint sizzling sound, and as he turned around to face his superior, Tri-Klops was hit by a small ball of energy. The blast, although small, was powerful enough to send him crashing backwards into one of the stone pillars that were scattered throughout the room.

"Never," Skeletor hissed venomously, "_ever_ speak to me like that again." With a slight chuckle, the evil sorcerer slumped back into his seat. Tri-Klops, as far as Evil-lyn could see, staggered to his feet and limped outside.

More bewildered than ever, she attempted to creep back to the iron clad doorway undetected, but………."Evil-lyn, might I ask why you're scurrying about like a rat?" Evil-lyn flinched. His voice had an amused undertone to it, which wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"N-nothing, my lord," she said, abashed at having been caught lurking about, "I was just………."

But she couldn't think of an excuse to give him. Skeletor sighed impatiently and beckoned her to his side. "How much of our conversation did you overhear?" he asked. She swallowed, but answered.

"Not much, my lord. I just came in, about a minute or two before you sent him away." It was the truth, but that didn't mean that Skeletor would accept it.

"Good, very good," Skeletor whispered.

Silently, he reached up and grabbed a hold of Evil-lyn's wrist; before she knew what was happening, she was sitting in his lap. She gasped and tried to pull away, but it was no use; Skeletor was just too strong. "Because, " he asked as she struggled to get loose, "you _do _know what will happen to you if I find out that you're lying, am I right?" Evil-lyn nodded furiously, flinching as her master's clawed fingers ran over her exposed shoulders.

"Good," he muttered darkly.

* * *

**A/N**: Revamped. Just fixed some punctuation and grammatical errors.


	2. The Reaper

Revamped. Spelling, punctuation, and grammatical errors edited, as well as a tiny bit of new material.

**HitokiriKurisuta **- Tri-Klops is THE finest character in the entire show (next to Mech and Buzz Off……yes I think the giant insect was drool worthy) and deserves to be given much glompage.

**Eva91 **- Oh don't worry, they will most definitely "get it on."

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing except Jamie/Reaper.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**The Reaper**

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­ "AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHH!" The man held onto the severed stump which had ended in a perfectly healthy hand only seconds before. The aforementioned digit lay on the ground a couple feet from the rapier which it had once wielded. Blood covered the grass and the leaves, marring the otherwise beautiful forest clearing.

"Oh……….oh……….oh my god……….you……….y-you bitch! Dammit……….my……….m-my hand! Ah……….I……….you……….oh god………." The man, who seemed to be in his mid-twenties, curled into a ball around his damaged arm, as if shielding it from further harm. Opposite to the man's body sat a young girl who looked like she was in her late teens. She was perched on the edge of a tree stump, her legs crossed and a bloody long sword in her right hand. Her white eyes danced in the fading sunlight with unholy glee and her lips were curved upwards in a mischievous smile.

As the man continued to whimper in pain, the girl reached into a hidden pocket of her tunic and withdrew from it a bloodied piece of paper. She scanned the writing on it, looking for some sort of clue. She had obtained this scrap of parchment from the man whose hand she had cut off, and it was painfully obvious that whatever the paper had said, it wasn't good news for him.

"_You know_," she said snidely, her voice scratchy and strangely guttural, "_when you first arrived at my village, I was ready to welcome you into our close-knit circle_." She stood up, and pocketing the scrap, said, "_But now, because of your damn curiosity, I have to leave and start all over again! Have you any idea how you've ruined my life?! I hate busybodies like you!_" With inhuman speed, she picked up the man and shoved him against the nearest tree, holding him aloft by his throat. "_Any last words?_" she asked mockingly. The man's pupils dilated in fear, but the intense grip on his wind pipe prevented him from screaming. "_Say goodnight then._"

The relentless pressure on the man's neck decreased, allowing him to breath, but not by much. Curiously, the pressure seemed to travel to his chest, where it began to build up, pushing against his ribcage with considerable force. "Uuuuuuuhhhhnnnnnnn!" he moaned as he watched his torso expand. The flesh stretched and twisted, as if something was attempting to claw its way out from the inside. For a moment, there was only the disgusting sound of skin being misshapen and distorted; then, after a minute or so, the pain hit.

Despite his lack of sufficient oxygen, the man screamed in agony. "AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!" The girl smirked as she released her grip on the man's throat and took a few steps back. With her arms crossed and her hip cocked to the side, she actually looked interested in what was happening.

Somewhere in the farthest regions of his mind the man registered that he had been let go, but his body was still shackled to the tree by some unseen force; his legs and arms were spread out, like some horrific sacrifice. Briefly, he wondered what type of magic was being invoked. That was all he had time to ponder before another wave of pain struck. He screamed again, louder than the first time. His skin was stretching out, farther and farther, revealing the intricate web of veins and nerves that were spread throughout his body.

**SNAP! **

He howled in renewed anguish as his ribs began to snap like twigs.

**SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!**

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" He screamed yet again, but this time in absolute horror as the broken shards of his ribs forced their way through the many layers of his epidermis. Like blood riddled spears they advanced, puncturing organs and tissue and anything else that got in their way.

**SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! **

The ribs continued to break, pulling him deeper and deeper into the drowning pool of pain. Blood spurted from his wounds in horrid amounts, staining his clothes and skin. It cascaded off of his body in minute waterfalls, mixing with the dirt of the ground. His body began to convulse and he thrashed his head from side to side.

The girl, who had been watching thus far with an expression of sadistic joy on her face, moved in a little closer. Leaning up to the mangled body, she whispered, "_Hurts, don't it?_" The man tried to scream as another contraction of pain hit, breaking more ribs, but his lungs weren't functioning properly, due to blood loss.

**SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! **

More bone fragments ruptured through his torso, impaling both his already malfunctioning lungs and allowing them to fill with bodily fluids. He coughed as his lungs filled up with blood and stomach acid, spraying the liquids everywhere. The majority of it landed on the girl, tarnishing her clothes and hair. For one second, there was absolute silence; the calm before a storm. Then, with the same unnatural speed as before, she grabbed the man's face and forced him to look into her eyes. She seemed to hover several inches above his head; she was levitating.

The man shrunk back as far as he could from the girl's daunting stare. Her eyes, an intense white, were glowing in such a manner that they appeared to be charged with electricity. The man actually felt his hair begin to stand on end. She chuckled. "_What's the matter?_" she taunted. "_Surely you aren't afraid of a _girl"

She held the gaze for a few seconds, as if wondering what to do with him. Unexpectedly, she grabbed him by the hair and yanked upwards, forcing his neck into an uncomfortable position. "_You are about to die,_" she stated with a neutral, blasé tone. "_My face shall be the last thing you see, my voice the last thing you hear, my name the last thing on your mind, and this pain the last thing that you shall ever feel………._"

As she said this, the muscles in the man's body began to constrict, putting an unbelievable amount of pressure on his bones. He struggled against the force, but it was useless.

**SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! **

Four more ribs broke. Once again, he was overwhelmed by pain and he opened his mouth to scream, but the only thing he could produce with his tortured lungs was a rattling breath. Seeking some form of mercy, he raised his head to look at the girl, pleading for his life with his pain glazed eyes. She stared back, unimpressed by his pathetic look; pity was not one of her many qualities, and neither was mercy.

However, she reached out and stroked his cheek softly; the man shuddered. When she pulled her hand away, it was covered in blood. Making sure that her victim was watching, she slowly licked her fingers clean. The man moaned in both horror and disgust at the spectacle. Satisfied with her performance, the girl lowered herself back to solid ground, collected her long sword, and turned to walk away. "_Oh, _she called out, her voice disturbingly cheerful, "_before I forget, I'm the Reaper!_" The man barely registered that fact before the pain returned with renewed vigor.

**SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! **

The last of his ribs snapped as his muscles continued to shrink. The poor man took a shuddering breath (as much as he could with his lungs in the condition that they were in) and his eyes rolled back, revealing their white undersides. His body began to thrash, this time having nothing to do with magic. After a few moments of spasmming, he grew still and his eyes glazed over.

He was dead.

The Reaper, who had stopped to watch the death throes, noticed that one of the man's ribs remained unbroken. Smiling, she walked over to the corpse and, grasping the bloodied bone in one hand, pulled downwards.

**SNAP! **

"_Heh heh heh._" The Reaper threw the splinter to the ground and cocked her head back. Looking at the dark sky, she whispered, "_I'm coming to kill you, dear brother; you're next on my hit list!_"

* * *

**A/N: **I still like this chapter


	3. Points of View

More revamping. Added some stuff; a few descriptions here, and few punctuation/grammar mistakes there. Nothing too extravagant.

**HitokiriKurisuta** - Yes, he is cute! He's the cutest one of the Masters, in my humble opinion.

**Eva91** - Don't worry, a Mary-Sue is the LAST thing she's going to be; it may seem like it at first, but don't worry. Yes, there will be plenty of lovin' on their part as well……as you shall soon see.

**Disclaimer**: I own Reaper/Jamie and the plot. I also own all sexual actions that may take place in the very near future…

**Warning: This chapter contains adult content that you may not find to your liking. If such is the case, then please skip over the section with the warning. You are, of course, responsible for your own activities.**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Points of View**

* * *

Tri-Klops suppressed a wince as he made his way around his cluttered workshop. His side felt like someone had just used it for target practice on a blaster range. What made it seem even worse was the fact that he had been "punished" a little less than a week ago and it _still_ hurt just as terribly as if he had just received it. Tri-Klops wasn't looking forward to checking out the multiple-colored bruise that he knew he had.

Blasts coming from Skeletor's Havoc Staff were a force to be reckoned with; more so when he was in a foul mood, and Skeletor had been in one foul mood. Tri-Klops blamed himself for his injury, though. It was due to his own stupidity that he had gotten blasted, running his mouth like that. Skeletor's tolerance level was already extra low from all the lack of activity; pestering him was the equivalent of setting fire to an extremely short fuse.

The trouncing had been painful, but it could've been worse. There had been times before when Tri-Klops hadn't been able to move due to pain. He had had broken bones, lacerations, internal bleeding, and had even been comatose for a few days. It was nothing out of the ordinary though; everyone went through the same type of abuse.

Turning a corner that took him into an extremely well lit area of his lab, Tri-Klops mulled over the scene that had taken place several days ago. He was an extremely analytical person, and body movements were a key factor in discerning the moods of others. Skeletor expressed himself through his body language, making it very easy for Tri-Klops to interpret him.

Skeletor had been brooding; he was slouched, his legs were apart, and his chin rested on his right fist. Classic pose of lethargy. It had been almost painfully obvious that he had been lying when he had said that plans were being made. For one thing, his shoulders had tensed up the minute that Tri-Klops had mentioned the word "Grayskull".

If that wasn't a dead giveaway, then there was always the ever-faithful banish-the-minion-from-sight routine. It never failed to work. At least, on the less competent it never failed. Nevertheless, it was blatantly palpable that Skeletor had been somewhat flustered by Tri-Klops's allegations.

Of course, most leaders don't like being told what they're doing wrong………

_**Flashback**_

_"What do you want, Tri-Klops?" mumbled Skeletor as he barely managed to conceal a yawn. It was late in the day and the green armored swordsman stood at the foot of the sorcerer's throne, acting very smug. _

_But then, Tri-Klops could be a very smug individual at times._

_Skeletor wasn't in the mood for the larking about of his underlings. It had been a long day with no warfare from either Snake Mountain or Eternos and, quite frankly, it was grating on his last nerve. He missed the adrenaline rush that accompanied battle and was half tempted to go bother Evil-lyn to see if he could get her worked up enough to actually attack him. He'd give any reason to start a fight right about now._

I wonder if Randor has these problems, _mused Skeletor, pointedly ignoring his third-in-command. _Perhaps one of these days I'll ask him. _At this, Skeletor snickered. Him asking Randor for advice was as likely as He-man joining Hordak's forces. _

_"Lord Skeletor………," addressed Tri-Klops, letting his boss know that he was still there. _

_Even without facial expressions, it was incredibly easy for Tri-Klops to tell that Skeletor was irked by his presence; the Overlord of Snake Mountain was clearly preoccupied with something else, probably a distant memory or a fantastical whim of some sorts. With his unoccupied hand Skeletor gestured that Tri-Klops begin speaking. _

_Quickly, for he knew that Skeletor's patience was stretched thin, the swordsman cleared his throat and spoke. "As you have undoubtedly noticed, the forces of Eternos have been too busy rebuilding the palace to initiate any attacks on Snake Mountain. Thus far. It is my firm belief that we should take actions while they are occupied. If we strike now they won't have enough time to reassemble their troops for a counter-strike. We could hit them hard and fast. "_

_Skeletor clenched the arm rests of the throne, his interest slightly aroused. "Yes……….?" he urged, letting a bit of his curiosity seep through his indifferent front. _

_"If we strike at the northern wall," Tri-Klops continued, "we could easily breach the city; most of Randor's defenses are concentrated at the western wall and at the main gate. We could rush in, dominate the palace gardens and the entrance hall, and set up a perimeter." _

_"Go on…" _

_"Eternos would be ours for the taking!" Up until this last comment, Skeletor had been actually considering Tri-Klops' proposal. It would definitely be a nice change from all the inactivity that was taking place. It would be refreshing, he thought, to engage in a skirmish, even if it didn't have a point. However, the last defeat that he had suffered was still fresh in Skeletor's mind. It had been, in his opinion, one of the most humiliating losses of all time. This time was sure to be the same, because no matter how hard they tried, there was no way that they would be able to stop He-man from coming to the rescue. _

_After all, how many times had they come up with similar plots, only to be thwarted by that muscle-headed buffoon? Too many times, that much was certain, and Skeletor just wasn't in the mood to suffer another defeat. _

_"As _fascinating _as it seems," enunciated Skeletor, "I have no desire to march into Eternos only to be crushed by He-man." If he hadn't been in complete control of his body, Tri-Klops was sure that his mouth would have been hanging open. As it was, he couldn't stop himself from giving a small, involuntary jerk. Since when had Skeletor ever rejected a chance to extract revenge on Eternos?! It was practically unheard of. _

_Continuing on as if he hadn't noticed anything, Tri-Klops attempted to reiterate his point. "But my lord, this has been the best chance to assault we've had in several months; we should take it!" Too late Tri-Klops realized that he had shouted. No one ever, _ever _shouted at the lord and master of Snake Mountain; you had to be either new to the whole villain thing or really, really stupid._

_Skeletor's pores were practically oozing sarcasm as he spoke. "As much as I _admire _your dedication, your plans will have to wait. I'm far too occupied right now to bother with anything else." With that, Skeletor slumped back down into his throne, confident that the matter had been deferred for the time being. _

_"Occupied with what? I don't see anyone doing anything worth alluding to." _

_The statement cut through the silence like an axe. The tension in the room was positively asphyxiating. From the shadows that concealed Skeletor's throne glowed two bright red lights. Tri-Klops noticed, but stood his ground. He was not going to retreat. _

_"Care to repeat that little comment, Tri-Klops?" Skeletor's voice was held a deadly note. Tri-Klops didn't take heed to the warning._

_"Shouldn't we be doing something? I mean we're just sitting around, not doing a damn thing!" It was Skeletor's turn to be surprised. Tri-Klops never cursed. _

Never

_Something was wrong with him. _

_"If you're so damn eager to go do something, then go and make it worth while!" Skeletor made a threatening gesture with his Havoc Staff and Tri-Klops nearly took a step back. He knew that he was pushing his luck, but Skeletor's attitude was ridiculous. This was a golden opportunity, and it could be a long time before another one just like it came along._

_"All I'm saying is that we should at least be _thinking _of a plan to capture Eternos!" pressed Tri-Klops. Skeletor's voice was the epitome of mockery as he replied. _

_"What gives you the idea that we're _not _thinking, O Noble One?" _

_"Look at us!" Tri-Klops yelled throwing his arms out to emphasize his point "We're just sitting around doing nothing! We should be plotting, or attacking, or _something_!" There was another pregnant pause as words were processed into actions. Tri-Klops was practically sweating; this was far more nerve-racking than any battle he had ever been in. He knew that he could be easily obliterated into a thousand tiny pieces, but he just couldn't back down. Skeletor snorted sardonically and once again gestured with his Havoc Staff, although not nearly as in a threatening manner. _

_"If you're so hot to do something," he growled, his tone indicating that the conversation was at an end, "then go do it yourself: I've no patience to be bothered by the likes of you." Swallowing a sarcastic reply as the red orbs glowed more intensely, Tri-Klops backed away and began to make his way back to his lab. When he was halfway across the room, a slight sizzling sound caught his attention. _

_"Oh, and Tri-Klops………," _

_He turned around to face his superior and was hit by a small ball of energy. The blast, although small, was powerful enough to send him crashing backwards into one of the stone pillars that were scattered throughout the room. _

_"Never," Skeletor hissed venomously, "_ever _speak to me like that again." With a slight chuckle, the evil sorcerer slumped back into his seat. _

_**End Flashback**_

The memory was almost worse than the real thing. He hadn't realized how foolish he had sounded, and his rebellious tone had done nothing to get him into Skeletor's good graces. He knew he shouldn't have said half the things that he had, but he couldn't help it at the time; the urge to take action had just been too powerful for him to control. Tri-Klops shook his head.

No was not the time to be dwelling in the past.

* * *

"Stupid, foul, overbearing shrubbery," Jamie mumbled as she shoved some thick reeds out of her way. Something told her that she should've taken the easier and more obvious path, but she quickly shook the thought off and kept walking. She was _not_ going to turn around and start her journey all over again, just because she had screwed up in the first place.

"Ass-ish journey," she muttered again, ducking under a huge, low-hanging branch. She uttered a few more things under her breath, some of them sounding suspiciously childish. She didn't care though; no one else was around to witness her immaturity.

It had about a week since she had left the village that she had consistently lived in for the past several years. Chances were that she still would've been living there had it not been for that man. _Stupid loser,_ she thought grumpily, _going and reminding me of my promise………._ It wasn't often that someone got under her skin, but that man had managed to do it in record time. Jamie wished she could've remembered what had happened after he had slapped her, but when she tried to think about it her memory went unsettlingly blank. She had a sinking suspicion that she knew what had went down, but she didn't want to dwell on it. It wasn't a pleasant thought process.

_Man probably got what he deserved anyways,_ she thought, even as her heart clenched in pain. She hated it when she did things that she couldn't even remember, especially when they involved people. Sighing, she went to move another branch out of her way but stopped when she thought she heard a bush rustle.

"Do you really have to leave?" asked a suave voice.

Squeaking, Jamie spun around and slammed right into a very well-built chest belonging to some young man whom she hadn't been able to shake off. His name was Raif or something and he had been hounding her for the past two days, insisting that she stay at his village for a little while longer. With bright blue eyes and spiky brown hair he certainly was handsome, and if she hadn't been aware of his true nature Jamie might have felt inclined to be attracted to him.

"Look," she said, attempting to get her rapidly beating heart to slow down, "I've told you before: I have something important to do. If I didn't, maybe I'd stay longer, but I can't. I _have_ to do this."

"Do what?" asked the young man, smiling charmingly. Jamie rolled her eyes and turned away from him.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

Raif laughed. "Come on, don't be so secretive," he chided, grabbing Jamie's upper arm and pulling her to him; her entire body tensed and she positively bristled with apprehension.

"Let go," she said quietly.

"No," Raif laughed again. "I want to know where you're going."

"I'm not going to tell you and if you don't let me go right now you're going to seriously regret it."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's a promise."

Raif snarled and pushed Jamie up against the nearest tree. He had been lusting after Jamie ever since she had set foot within his small village and his reputation had demanded him that he be the first to bed her. Jamie, contrary to most other girls, spurned his advances and flatly turned him down on several occasions. Raif, having never dealt with rejection before, found this to be a serious blow to both his ego and his reputation and vowed that he would somehow seduce Jamie, one way or another.

Now that she was leaving he felt even more pressed to carry through with his promise, even if it meant taking her by force. Jamie, for her part, was very close to freaking out. She had never been in this kind pf position before and though she knew that Raif was no match for her in combat skills, his strength and the current position that he had her in was to his advantage. "Get off of me," she said between clenched teeth, wishing that she could push him off of her but he was too heavy.

"I don't think so," he said. "You have something that I want and I'm going to take it, whether you like it or not." With that he bent down and tried to kiss Jamie but she quickly jerked forward, her forehead connecting with Raif's and knocking him back the few feet that she needed to escape.

"Bitch!" he screamed after her retreating form. "You'll regret that! I'm gonna find you, and if I don't, there's a monster out there who certainly will! You're gonna get killed!"

Jamie snorted to herself. There was no _real _monster. Even she knew that and she couldn't even remember what had happened last week. Although, he did have a point; Jamie was a monster in more ways than one. She kept walking away from Raif's varied threats and curses, his voice growing fainter as she trudged on. Eventually she couldn't even hear him any more, which could mean one of two things: that he had given up or that he was too far away. Jamie hoped it was the second one.

"Stupid, ass-ish journey," she mumbled to herself as a whippy branch struck her in the face. She had barely even begun her mission and she had already dealt with annoying busybodies, would-be rapists, and vicious undergrowth, not to mention memory-loss. Her brother was definitely going to die for putting her through this.

* * *

_**!Warning! - PWP - !Warning!**_

Evil-lyn moaned in ecstasy as Skeletor plunged into her. Her hips rose to match his thrusts, establishing a rhythm that both were familiar with. She exhaled sharply as his skilled hands played with her breasts, alternating between pinching her nipples and massaging the base. Every now and then, his claws would rake over her skin in such a way that waves of satisfaction raced through her nerves and exploded.

He was _good_.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, giving the thrusts more depth. Her arms, following the example of her lower extremities, snaked their way around his shoulders and she buried her face in the crook of his neck. As if in answer to her movements, Skeletor rose to knees and, with one arm braced on the bed for support (his other arm held Evil-lyn to his body), and began to thrust faster and faster.

Evil-lyn's nails dug into his back, eliciting from him a sharp hiss. She could feel the pressure beginning to build up between her legs, the tell-tale sign of an oncoming orgasm. The fire that was burning in her stomach intensified, spreading throughout her body and causing her to moan again. Skeletor's breathing became ragged and sharp; he too was on the verge of an orgasm.

_"Faster." _

Evil-lyn didn't remember ever saying such a thing, but she was glad that it had been said, for Skeletor began to pump into her with renewed fervor. He gyrated his hips slightly, nearly sending Evil-lyn over the edge. _Damn!_ She was so close! Sensing this, Skeletor removed his hand from its position against her back and reached in between their bodies. He stroked the apex of her thighs, brushing his claws over her clitoris in the process. This new form of stimulation was all Evil-lyn needed.

"Aaaaaaaaah!" she arched her back, orgasming against his sweaty body. With one more thrust from his powerful hips, this one harder than the rest, Skeletor too went over the edge, falling into the deep chasm of pleasure. His deep sigh of relief tickled Evil-lyn's ear as she stroked his back. She could feel his muscles shifting beneath his skin; he felt so languid. Much less tense than this morning, when he had been arguing with Beastman over something or another.

With another sigh, Skeletor pulled out of her and collapsed on the bed. His broad chest rose and fell with each breath he took. As he lay there, Evil-lyn took a few moments to admire his physique.

He was magnificent.

Her eyes roamed all over his body, drinking in his beautifully sculpted chest, his toned abdomen, his muscled thighs, and (of course) his more than adequate manhood. She'd never admit it aloud, but he was beautiful. Smiling to herself, she sat up and began to put her clothes on. Once everything was in order she walked to the door, intending to go take a bath. "Evil-lyn," said Skeletor suddenly, "gather everyone together; I have an idea." Evil-lyn held back a sigh. Even after sex, all the man thought about was revenge.

He was hopeless.

* * *

**A/N**: I still don't care for this chapter too much, but it's better than it was before.


	4. Plans and Wanderers

I forgot how stupid and random this chapter is. You can probably disregard the entire first half of it. Minor grammar/spelling/punctuation errors fixed and a teeny bit of detail added.

**Eva91** - Glad you liked it! I was sweating blood over the snippet with Evil-lyn and Skeletor…..No, I will never, _NEVER_ abandon this story (I love it too much). I may be slow on the updating, but the chapters will get here, I promise. Please don't abandon me….

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing save the plot and Jamie/Reaper. Don't sue.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**Plans and Wanderers**

* * *

"Eeeeeeee!" A young girl streaked across the meadow, her golden hair fanning out behind her like a pair of wings. Bright blue eyes sparkled with delight and a flood of laughter broke forth from the dam of her mouth. A white sundress flared gracefully around her body, transforming her into the epitome of purity itself. She twirled and spun around, her dainty feet performing complicated steps to match the rhythm of her body. Her arms waved gracefully through the air and her back arched into an ancient form of interpretive dance.

As she pranced around the clearing she was joined by two other children, both of them boys. Their hair was black and their eyes were green; they were twins. They too wore white, but as pants and open-front shirts. The girl continued to sway about, oblivious to the others that now ran around. Her impish face was a mask of concentration; her eyes were screwed shut and her mouth was a thin line. Faster and faster she spun, the scenery flying past her in an array of colors and shapes.

Suddenly she lost her balance and lurched forward to fall face first into the grass. "Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!" Her cry of dismay brought both boys running to her side; they helped her up and brushed her dress off, whispering comforting words into her ears. The girl nodded at the boys reassuringly; she wasn't injured, just startled. Looking back to the place of her descent, the young girl was taken aback to see a huge sword lying among the flowers. It looked so out of place with the garish environment, its blade chipped and bloodstained from years of wear.

The handle looked to be about a foot and a half long and cut from obsidian; there were designs and runes carved into the blade and handle, depicting people being torn apart by unsightly creatures, possibly demons.

The boys, who had rejoined the girl's side, gaped in awe. The expression on the girl's face was one of shocked disbelief. Who would carry such an unholy weapon? In a daze, she reached out with a small hand and stroked the handle.

It was cold.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over them and they all let out a collective gasp. A young lady in her late teens looked down at the trio, suspicion written all over her face. "What are you doing?" she demanded, spotting the sword. The children continued to stare at her.

Who was she? She didn't look familiar, nor did she look like a foreigner. Where did she come from? She didn't have the look of anyone from anywhere that they'd heard of.

Was that sword hers?

Why did she have it?

What was it for?

The questions raced through their heads, playing with their minds and stirring their imaginations. The older girl glowered at the children a little while longer, but gave it up when she saw that they were not to be intimidated by mere looks.

"I repeat: what are you doing?"

One little boy seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had been in and answered, "We were just looking at it." Jamie arched a slim eyebrow at him and nodded.

"What're your names?" she asked again, in an uninterested voice. The same little boy spoke up once he saw that the other two were still under the spell of the sword.

"My name is Leon and this is my little sister Reine and my twin brother Aidrian."

"Hm. Sorry I scared you."

Immediately, almost like a reflex, Aidrian and Leon puffed out their chests and proclaimed indignantly, "We weren't scared!" That was all that was needed to break the ice. Jamie chuckled wearily, as if she wasn't too sure that sticking around any longer was a good idea. Reine grinned slightly, still unsure, but Aidrian and Leon guffawed boisterously and unconvincingly as little boys do. After a minute or two the laughter ceased and silence settled in, occasionally punctuated by small giggles. Jamie bent over and picked up the sword.

It was then that Reine finally found her voice.

"Is that yours?" she half shouted, eyes wide with apprehension. Jamie nodded, her eyes shining with something that most definitely wasn't pride. Reine's eyes darted back and forth between the wicked blade and the hand that wielded it. Swallowing the voice of reason that told her to shut up, Reine asked another question, "Why do you carry it?"

Jamie looked at Reine again and with no small amount of amusement in her voice said, "Because I have a job that requires me to carry a weapon. This is my weapon." Reine's eyes grew even larger, if possible. So it _was_ hers!

"What's your job?"

Jamie sighed. Another easy question not so easily answered. Why did kids have to come up with all the tough stuff? Oh well, since she asked……… "I can't tell you."

Reine pouted. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Why?"

Jamie rolled her eyes. This was becoming tiresome. Didn't they have something better to do then annoy her?

"Because it's my job not to tell you."

Reine took a deep breath, no doubt preparing to ask more questions, but before she could actually form the word in her mind Jamie put her finger on her lips and said, "No more questions; I have to leave." Disappointment filed the twins, who hadn't had a chance to voice their own curiosities.

Jamie slung a backpack over her left shoulder and, even though it had to weigh at least fifty pounds, easily picked up the sword and set it across her other shoulder. Without a backward glance, she began to walk away. Leon frowned. Didn't she know where she was going? When Aidrian looked at his twin in concern, Leon shrugged and ran after Jamie. "Wait!" he yelled, waving his arms in an attempt to fully capture her attention. Jamie stopped and turned around, aggravation clearly evident in the way that she moved.

"What now?" she hissed icily while Leon caught his breath.

"Do you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

"This direction leads to the Dark Hemisphere….to Snake Mountain."

"I know."

"Then………why?"

Jamie laughed then, a hollow sound that made his hair stand on end.

"That's where I'm headed: Snake Mountain."

Leon shook his head in confusion. "Why would you want to go there?" Worry shone in his eyes and his lower lip trembled. No one ever, ever _willingly _set foot near Snake Mountain. At least, no one that had lived to brag about it.

"It's where I need to go," Jamie reiterated, "now leave me alone and go play or something." With that, she turned around and, for the second time, walked away with no intention of looking back. Leon stood there, watching her retreating figure with such intensity that he could've burnt a hole through her. Eventually, Aidrian joined his twin with Reine clinging to the hem of his shirt.

"Leon!" Aidrian waved his hand in front of the other boy's face, but failed to avert his gaze from where it was fixed.

"She'll be okay," whispered Reine, tugging on Aidrian's sleeve.

"Her eyes were weird," Leon said, childish curiosity etched into his face.

"What do you mean?" Reine pleaded, tears sparkling in her eyes; she was still frightened by the strange persona that they had just encountered.

"I dunno," said Leon, looking confused, "they just looked kind of weird." Aidrian and Reine looked at Leon and then back at each other, worry apparent in their eyes.

"What kind of weird?" Aidrian asked his twin. Leon just shrugged and then stopped down to examine a pile of dirt.

"I dunno," he repeated, poking at the ground with his finger. "It's like she wasn't really looking at me. Like she was seeing someone else; someone she didn't really like."

* * *

Trapjaw rolled his eyes, careful to not let Skeletor see. This was ridiculous. How many times had they gone through this? How many times had they come up with some "brilliant plan" only to be thwarted by that damn He-man and those damn Defenders?

More than Skeletor liked to admit, that was sure.

It was late in the evening and everyone was dead tired. All Trapjaw wanted to do was sleep. Was that too much to ask for? Apparently Skeletor thought so, for he had summoned everyone to the council room for a debriefing.

This meant that they would all stand around Skeletor's throne and look stupid while Skeletor told them what to do. Those plans usually ended in disaster. However, this time it actually sounded plausible. Much more reasonable than some of the others that had been circulating around. Briefly, Trapjaw wondered if Evil-lyn had anything to do with it. Next to Tri-Klops, she was the most cunning individual in the Dark Hemisphere. It would be entirely possible for her to come up with a decent plan to destroy Eternia.

Even though he suspected it, Trapjaw knew that the plan hadn't been hers; it was much too subtle for her tastes. Nah, she was more than likely the inspiration. When he had entered the room, he had noticed that Evil-lyn had that slightly sleepy, almost drugged, I-just-had-mind-blowing-sex look on her face. Skeletor was looking pretty relaxed as well. Yeah, Trapjaw was positive that there had been plenty of "inspiration". It wasn't exactly a secret that those two slept together; everyone just feigned ignorance, more for their own sanity than anything else. It wasn't like anyone minded though; if they wanted to sleep with each other then that was their deal.

"Does anyone have any questions?"

Skeletor's gravelly voice reverberated throughout the cavern. Clawful coughed, but Trapjaw identified it as a skillfully disguised snicker. Whenever anyone had asked any questions in the past, they had been quickly dispatched with a magic bolt from the Havoc Staff; thusly, no one asked questions. Trap-jaw figured that this was just something to fuel Skeletor's sadistic tendencies.

"Very good. The operation will commence at the beginning of next week, during the first hour of the morning."

Everyone moved to evacuate the room, suppressing groans and mutinous mumblings about having to wake up so early. When Skeletor stopped talking, however, that was pretty much the cue to get lost. Somehow, Trapjaw ended up sandwiched between Tri-Klops and Clawful while the others (minus Evil-lyn) scattered to their individual quarters.

"Is it just me, or was Skeletor in a weird mood?" the giant crustacean asked, carefully maneuvering his massive claws so as not to injure his fellow minions. Trap-jaw chuckled. Just because Clawful was slow didn't mean that he was blind. Anyone could see that Skeletor was in a _good_ mood. Any man would be in a good mood after sex. Clawful was smart enough; it just took a while for him to process things.

"Ya mean weirder than normal."

"Uh……yeah."

"Uh-huh, I noticed it too."

Clawful smirked, pleased with himself. Trapjaw yawned and stretched his biological arm as far as it could go. Man was he tired! He had been tuning up all of the old equipment that was stored in the lower regions of the dungeons all day long. Tri-Klops may have been good with his hands while inventing, but when it came down to repairing, no one surpassed Trapjaw, in either skill or knowledge.

"Shit, I'm tired!" yawned the big cyborg, stretching his arms again. Tri-Klops cast a penetrating glare in his direction, silently warning him. Tri-Klops didn't curse. Ever. Sure, a couple of times here and there, but only when he was extremely angry or frustrated. Trapjaw didn't really care; he kind of liked to cuss. Tri-Klops wasn't the type of guy to shove his way of life down people's throats, but he did let you know how he felt. Trapjaw remembered what he had said after one particular cussing bout between Clawful and Evil-lyn.

"Useless adjectives and nouns, used to fill in areas where sensible words would suffice. When they curse, it shows how tactless they truly are." It had made Trapjaw think, but in the end he shrugged it off. Tri-Klops was just uptight.

Eventually, Clawful branched off to his own room, bidding the two warriors goodnight. Silence fell between them as they continued on. Trapjaw felt uneasy, because he was used to Tri-Klops's jibber-jabber about some new device, but he knew that the man beside him also welcomed the quiet from time to time. Tri-klops had always been a solitary person. Everything about him was mysterious. He didn't socialize much with the others; hell, Skeletor and Trapjaw himself were the only other people in Snake Mountain that knew the guy's entire story.

After much walking, Tri-Klops and Trapjaw came to the end of the hall where their rooms were divided by the lab/workshop. That lab/workshop was a great source of irritation to Trapjaw; it was normal for Tri-Klops to pull all-nighters in that blasted room, tinkering with dozens of unfinished experiments. The noise that emanated from there during the early hours of the morning was maddening. There were clicks and whirs and Elders knew what else going on in there. Time and time again, Trapjaw had pressured Tri-Klops into soundproofing his lab/workshop, but the man would not have it.

As Tri-Klops moved to seal his door, a metal claw wedged itself between the latches. "What do you want, Trapjaw?" growled the swordsman.

"Jist wonderin' why yer in a shitty mood, that's all. You were pretty quiet comin' down here an' normally ya don't shut up. Always yappin' 'bout some invention or idea. I swear it's the only thing ya talk about, Trike."

Tri-Klops sighed.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm just tired. Now go away."

Trapjaw shrugged. Just as long as he didn't keel over dead, Tri-Klops could do whatever suited him. "Still in a weird-ass mood, though." he mumbled as he staggered through his own door way. He only had a few hours to sleep before he would be roused to begin on preparations for their mission and he wanted to make the most of the time that he had. Unless of course, Tri-Klops pulled another all-nighter.

_I'll kill him._

* * *

**A/N:** I fixed Trapjaw a bit, mostly adding his accent. I noticed that I put it in a little later on. How stupid of me.


	5. Someone New

Edited. Might go back some other time and fix more.

**HitokiriKurisuta **- Thanks for reading! I know how it gets, reading all these other stories. Sometimes I lose track of which story is what. Yeah, the scene in Chapter three is also my favorite (so far). I did not know that I had skills in writing smut. It came as a surprise to me. Glad you like the story and hope you keep reading! (p.s. thanks for not abandoning me and glad you like _Who We Were_!)

**Eva91 **- Sorry it took so long to get out. Finals are a pain in the butt. Always glad to write about Snake Mountain scenes. Don't worry, there is going to be a whole lot more of those in the near chapters.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anyone belonging to Mattel, but I do own Jamie/Reaper and the plot. Back off.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**Someone New**

* * *

Evil-lyn slapped her arm in annoyance. _Damn bugs,_ she thought to herself. It was very, very early; the suns hadn't even risen yet. The twin moons were still in the sky, albeit low. They were both full, casting a silvery sheen over the land and providing sufficient light. Normally, Evil-lyn would still be asleep at this time, but certain circumstances had had her up since about midnight. Skeletor's plan had commenced then, stirring everyone into action.

They had split into three groups: Skeletor, Beastman, and Trapjaw; Tri-Klops, Evil-lyn, and Whiplash; Stinkor, Merman, and Two-Bad; Clawful had opted to remain behind at Snake Mountain, in case something happened, though the odds were unlikely. Each group had then spread out. The whole plan had been quite simple: find a village on the outskirts of the Dark Hemisphere that made monthly contact with Eternos. They would capture the village and evacuate the villagers. Then Tri-Klops would send out a counterfeit distress signal to the Kingdom of Eternos.

The Masters would come to investigate but would find nothing. Unbeknownst to them, the entire village would be rigged to explode upon detonation, possibly using a remote control and a Doomseeker. The villagers would have been removed from harm's way and clever fakes put in their place. Tri-Klops had invented some life-size robots a couple seasons ago that could be disguised to look like anyone in the world; the whole thing was easy.

Skeletor knew that he wouldn't be able to get all of the Masters in one blast, but there was the chance that several of them might kick the bucket. He-man preferably among those several. At the moment, everyone was in hiding, waiting for the Defenders of Eternia to show up. Evil-lyn herself was keeping cover in a clump of trees and bushes. As of then, she had no idea where her other two cohorts are, but she knew that they were close.

Surprisingly, the villagers had complied with Skeletor's demands without argument. Beastman was almost sure that they would try to put up a fight (more than likely he was _hoping _that they would fight). The explosives had been installed without any difficulties, unless you counted digging holes as "difficulties". The fake transmission had been sent out with a simple plea for help. They should be arriving anytime. Until then, Evil-lyn had to put up with the damnedest bugs on the face of the planet. She should've expected them; after all, it was the wet season and the air was hot and humid. The perfect conditions for insect breeding.

Another one of the winged pestilences buzzed right in front of Evil-lyn's face, taunting her. Snarling, Evil-lyn swiped at the annoying bug, only to have it fly away. She hoped the Masters showed up soon; if she had to sit amongst these wretched insects any longer than necessary she was going to scream.

Suddenly, she heard a rustling noise to her right and she quickly grabbed hold of her staff. The sound had been very faint, as if whoever was there was trying to be quiet. Evil-lyn could hear crunching noises of gravel and what sounded like twigs snapping. Her shoulders tensed and she crouched, poised for action. She did not want to be caught unawares if it was an enemy.

The branches immediately in front of her shook and she raised her staff.

A tall figure stepped out of the bushes and she swung at his head.

Hard.

Luckily, the figure ducked and the staff went whistling over his head. He almost fell over, but managed to regain his balance before his body actually came in contact with the floor. "_Evil-lyn!_" came a raspy voice from the direction that she had swung. Evil-lyn lowered her weapon, partially in aggravation and partly in relief.

"Tri-Klops!" she gasped. "You buffoon, how many times have I told you to _warn _me when you're coming?!"

The man stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. The soft beams of light illuminated his armor, bringing his form into focus.

"We'll discuss it later; they're here."

All thoughts of wanting to patronize the swordsman were replaced by the intense rush of adrenaline that heralded an intense battle. Evil-lyn followed Tri-Klops through the brush, careful not to run into him or make too much noise. Within minutes they were positioned behind a large boulder, about a couple hundred feet from the village; Whiplash was stationed not too far away behind an equally large log. Evil-lyn had to squint to see what was going on, hampered by both the distance and the lack of light.

Tri-Klops, however, was able to see just fine, thanks to his visor. Through his specialized lenses he was able to see everything as clearly as if he was naught but three feet away and in broad daylight. What he saw made him grin, for more than half of the Masters had shown up; the only ones not present were Buzz Off and Man-E-Faces. He-man was also overdue, but that detail could be overlooked at the general moment.

Tri-Klops silently counted in his head.

Five of them. There were five Masters down there. Apprehension immediately crept into his thoughts. Would the explosives be enough to kill all five of them? Teela and Stratos he wasn't worried about, for he knew that they were the least durable of all the Masters. Ram Man, Man-at-Arms, and Mekanek on the other hand, were sources of distress. They were powerful and well armored. The blast impending from the explosion might only be enough to severely wound them. Also, they were a few of the most experienced warriors. Man-at-Arms he knew to have at least twenty years of fighting under his belt and Mekanek and Ram Man had both seen plenty of action.

Would they be prepared?

Was it possible that they had foreseen this?

Maybe they had already figured out that it was a trap and had formulated a plan of counterattack. The idea certainly set Tri-Klops on edge, but he refused to let it show through his facial expressions. He quickly glanced in Evil-lyn's direction to see if she was having the same doubts as he. She hadn't even appeared to notice the complications that were implied. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration and her lips were firmly set in that ever present smirk.

There was no mistake in his mind that Evil-lyn was ready to fight.

Tri-Klops could only hope that she didn't do something foolish, such as rush out onto the battlefront before the explosives were discharged. He did not relish having to explain to Skeletor why his favorite minion had to be brought back in a jar. "Evil-lyn," whispered Tri-Klops, hoping to dissuade her from an act of stupidity, "wait for the signal. If you rush out there now you'll be blown apart."

Evil-lyn rolled her eyes.

"Tri-Klops, _do _stop being paranoid. It doesn't become you, darling."

Tri-Klops didn't answer, his attention focused solely on the village. If he lowered his breathing and concentrated, he could actually make out bits and pieces of the conversation being held.

"Mekanek………need………and look………locals."

The deep voice of Man-at-Arms punctuated the air, broken in places where he lowered his tone.

"But………so late………no one here."

Tri-Klops recognized the girlish voice of Teela at once; she was the only female among the group. Another voice, hardened with age answered.

"Teela………find………sent out………signal."

He thought for a moment before identifying Stratos as the speaker. The man rarely spoke during battle, preferring to keep his wits about him than engage in trivial banter.

"I agree………Teela………get out………here………still can."

The young voice of Mekanek broke through the silence hurriedly; he obviously wanted to leave and let the situation take care of itself.

"Come on………find………that signal………from."

The last one to speak was Ram Man, trying to bring peace between the Masters.

Tri-Klops sighed inwardly. When was Skeletor going to send them the signal? If he didn't hurry soon, then the Defenders would escape! Evil-lyn noticed his impatience and elbowed him in the ribs. "Just a moment ago you were telling me to keep my head." she whispered saucily. "Don't you dare do something to jeopardize the mission!" Tri-Klops nodded vacantly, but continued to stare over the top of the boulder.

Then, at that moment, a couple of the masquerading robots paraded out of their homes, looking sleepy and annoyed. Just like Tri-Klops had programmed them to be. They began to speak to the Defenders in aggravated tones, dictating with their hands and facial expressions that they wanted nothing to do with them. Tri-klops smirked, his paranoia forgotten for the moment. The robots were doing a first-rate job at impersonating the townspeople.

Evil-lyn closed her eyes and listened carefully, curious as to what was being said.

"What………hell………want from………?"

The larger of the two men had spoken, throwing his arm out for emphasis. In response, Mekanek raised both of his hands in a non threatening way, hoping to establish some peace before things got out of hand.

"We're just………distress………was sent out………," he said.

The smaller of the two fake villagers laughed.

"There's nothing………here! You………mixed………signals."

Tri-Klops shifted his weight to his other leg. His crouched position was starting to cause him discomfort. If Skeletor didn't send out that signal soon, then the Defenders might figure out that they were being tricked, although it was remarkable that they hadn't already. Tri-Klops shifted again, earning himself a condemnatory look from Evil-lyn. _"Will you keep still?!" _she hissed vehemently. Tri-Klops ignored her.

Where was that signal?

* * *

Jamie whistled happily. For the first time this week, things were running along quite nicely. Since the children she had met earlier, no one had tried to hinder her (later on she had asked a man she had met if he knew anything about them and he had told her that they were half-breeds, elf and human, which explained why they had been so beautiful, even for children) .

Why was it that whenever people heard that you were going someplace bad, they tried to stop you? Did they actually care or were they just afraid? But then, what would they be afraid of, since it wasn't them going to Snake Mountain? Nothing, it would seem, so that led back to the actually caring part. On and on the possibilities ran, in a never-ending circle of confusion. Eliminate one likelihood and it led to another until you were back where you started.

Averse to ruin her good mood, Jamie began thinking about how long she had been traveling. It had been a full two weeks since she had left her village and one week since she had ditched Raif. Thoughtfully, she ticked off the days on her fingers. She'd been on the road for around eleven days, not counting the three days she had spent in that village.

She shrugged mentally. Considering how long it took normal people to reach the Northern Pass, eleven days was quite an accomplishment. Jamie swelled with pride; not that anyone was around to witness it. It didn't matter.

As she neared the outermost border of the Dark Hemisphere, Jamie noticed that her surroundings had taken a sudden change for the worse; trees were dying, the grass (if any) was brown and brittle, and the rivers and streams were dried up. There were no animals to be seen, unless one counted the numerous bugs and reptiles that occupied the rocks and the dirt beneath them. The sky had darkened considerably, though from magic or the imminent night Jamie didn't know. The air had a crackle of electricity to it, foreboding and exciting at the same time; it made Jamie's hair stand on end.

Glancing back and forth, Jamie quickly assessed her situation. If it was nightfall, then it was probably a good idea to find some shelter. Being stranded in the dark with no knowledge of the nature of nocturnal creatures was not one of Jamie's favored scenarios. She preferred to be in bed, curled up with a pillow or two and a blanket. Suppressing a yawn, Jamie checked a watch that dangled from a strap on her belt. She nearly retched. It was _that _early?! Where had the time gone?! She could've sworn that it had been midday not too long ago.

Jamie tapped the device; perhaps it was broken or malfunctioning. Nope, everything appeared to be in working order. She groaned. How could it have gotten this late without her noticing it? The blasted sky helped, she was sure, but she had an excellent sense of time. It was nearly impossible for her to be thrown off track by that much. _Oh well,_ she thought, _guess I'd better find a place to stay._

Sullenly, for she did not wish to suspend her trek any further than necessary (even though it was within her best interests), Jamie took out her locater and did a quick scan of the countryside, searching for any nearby villages. There! About two miles west from her present location. It wasn't too far away. Jamie put the locater away and headed west. _Mind as well not waste time, _she thought to herself.

After thirty or so minutes, Jamie was able to make out the darkened form of the village. She could see huts packed so close together that it was very difficult to distinguish the beginning of one dwelling from the other. Shaking her head in a condescending manner, Jamie walked on. When would people learn to build their abodes with some breathing space? It could get embarrassing, being that close to another home.

Suddenly, a voice reached Jamie's ears. Surprised, she dove behind the nearest boulder available. She frowned. Unless her scanner had been wrong (which it never was; she had acquired it from one of the best mechanics in Eternia), the village was deserted. Peeking around her barricade, Jamie was able to make out the dim forms of five people. Concentrating, she could see that there were three powerfully built men, one teenage girl (somewhere around her age, she guessed), and another man who was built like a tank, huge and strong.

_Damn, _she thought to herself, _and here I thought that this was going to be a piece of cake! _Originally, she had intended to sneak into a barn or something, just as a precaution to test if the villagers were dangerous or not (if they killed her before she woke up, they were obviously dangerous; if they woke her up and then questioned her, they were friendly), but now it seemed that she had a few more glitches to work out.

Suddenly, one of the men spoke up, startling Jamie out of her thoughts and back to reality.

"Mekanek, we need to stay and look out for the locals."

The voice was deep and baritone, obviously an older man, possibly in his early to late fifties.

"But it's already so late and besides, there's no one here."

The unmistakable high pitch identified the speaker as the girl. She sounded tired and frustrated.

"Teela, we need to find out why they sent out a distress signal."

This voice was also deep, but it held a strange accent to it that Jamie could not quite place but was familiar.

"I agree with Teela; let's get out of here while we still can."

The wielder of that voice was obviously younger than the others and he sounded distressed. Was it possible that they were not welcome in the Dark Hemisphere? That was entirely probable, since not many people ventured into Skeletor's realm without invitation.

"Come on guys, let's go find out where that signal was coming from."

The last voice had to belong to the fat guy, but Jamie had stopped paying attention. If they weren't welcome, then why were they there? Was it their civic duty to respond to distress calls or something? Curious, Jamie crept a bit closer. Who were these people? The girl's name was Teela that much was certain. Someone had mentioned a "Mekanek", but from her awkward position behind the rock it was kind of difficult to tell who it had been.

She stuck her head out a little farther, wishing she had brought a pair of binoculars or something; she couldn't see too well. Suddenly, Jamie noticed a couple of villagers dragging their tired bodies out of their huts and towards the others. They looked somewhat pissed, though Jamie didn't blame them in the slightest; if she had been woken up at this time in the morning, she would be looking to kill people as well. The larger man (he had to have been around seven feet tall) pointed accusingly at the trespassers (_What else could they be?_ she thought) and said, "What the hell do you want from us?!"

Okay, so they were definitely not welcome in this area.

One of the younger looking guys (Jamie suspected it was this "Mekanek") held up his hands, trying to calm the two villagers down. "We're just investigating a distress signal that was sent out from around here," he said. The other villager, a scrawny little twig of a man laughed mockingly.

"There's nothing wrong out here! You must have mixed up several signals."

He laughed again and as he did, Jamie did a double-take. Had she been imagining things, or had she really seen that? When he had laughed, the edge of his shirt had lifted up, giving Jamie a good view of his back. At first glance, he appeared to have regular skin, but when she looked closer, Jamie was able to make out the familiar sheen of metal. The moons were shining right behind him, right _through_ him, and she probably wouldn't have seen it otherwise.

She frowned. What was going on here? Why were these robots (that's what they were, evidently) pretending to be humans? Jamie's brain was functioning at the speed of light, trying to comprehend the situation. It made absolutely no sense. All of a sudden, the words "………Defenders of Eternia." floated within her range of hearing.

"Damn!" she cursed. While she had been lost in her thoughts, she had missed part of the conversation. But the words made her think. Who were the Defenders of Eternia? She certainly hadn't heard of them before. Unfortunately, Jamie had been very sheltered as a small child. That hadn't stopped her from inquiring about things by herself, but she was, according to the rest of the world, a heathen. It was frustrating to not know what someone was talking about, and equally embarrassing when they looked at you funny for asking them about it.

_Damn that isolated castle, _she thought viciously as she racked her memory for information about the "Defenders of Eternia". Nothing came up and she swore again. If it hadn't been for her older brother, she wouldn't know half of the things that she did now, and even those she would have found out for herself eventually. Overcome with disappointment, Jamie sat back on her heels and gave up trying to identify the strangers.

It was better to watch from a point of safety.

* * *

Mekanek wished he could yawn. Hell, he wished he could be _anywhere _but where he was at that moment. Even the Lava Fields would've been better than this. It was nearing morning and he hadn't gotten any sleep. If he didn't get back to Eternos soon, Mekanek was sure that he would collapse on the spot. _That _would be embarrassing.

_Especially in front of these two jafari peppers, _he thought to himself, referring to the two sleepy villagers who stood in front of him. One was tall and built like a tank while the other was short and twiggy. They reminded him of a couple of the palace guards that he knew: all bark and no bite. The larger man spoke like he meant business, but his eyes were watery and kept darting back and forth between the Masters, indicating that he was nervous. The shorter, thinner man was just annoying. He had a whining, high-pitched voice which grated on the area of the brain that causes a man to want to kill things.

Mekanek glanced around at his fellow Defenders. Out of them all, Teela looked to be the only other person who was willing to call it a night. In fact, she was looking _more _than willing. Mekanek could see her eyelids begin to droop, giving her a very sultry look. Not that he liked her; at least, not in _that _way. He admitted it, she was beautiful. Any man who didn't agree either preferred other men or was a eunuch. She had curves in all the right places and plenty of them. But still, it was uncomely of a man to court someone who was little less than half his age.

Not to mention the fact that she had already caught someone's eye, even if she herself wasn't aware of it. Mekanek nearly smiled before remembering where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. The larger of the two men had spoken again, mentioning something about taking their radars and shoving them in a place where radars weren't meant to be shoved.

It irritated him that these two………barbarians were treating them in such a vulgar manner when they were only here to help. People were so suspicious nowadays, so untrusting. They couldn't be blamed, though. Ever since the war (even though it had been good twenty years ago) there had been an increase in minor crimes, such as theft, arson, and rape; people became apprehensive of foreigners and travelers. There were more and more reports of heightened security in some of the more heavily populated and secluded towns. It was heartrending to see good people, living decent lives, acting so inconsiderate towards others.

Mekanek pulled himself out of his reminiscing just in time to hear the smaller man say, "We're fine. We've _been _fine. We'll _be _fine. We don't need any help from anybody, _especially _the 'almighty' Defenders of Eternia." The last part was said in a very derogatory manner, mocking them and their duty. It was about all that Mekanek could take.

"Look," he said, advancing on the two men, "we've come from a long ways away to help you! We got a distress signal and we're here to investigate! I don't give a damn about what you have to say in the matter, so you can take your sorry asses back to your homes and let us do our work!" His exclamatory comments produced a small round of applause from Stratos and a low whistle from Teela. Ram Man hid a snicker while Man-at-Arms glanced reproachfully in his general direction, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Inside his head, Mekanek congratulated himself on his brilliant mini-speech while wondering what the hell happened.

While all this was going on, something registered with the more observant part of Mekanek's brain that there was something terribly wrong with these men. The egotistical portion brushed it off, loathe to admit that it had failed to notice beforehand. The observant portion pushed again, emphasizing on the urge to check it out. Egotism gave way to reason, and Mekanek took a closer look at the men. What he saw horrified him.

On the outside, the men looked perfectly normal in every perspective, but when he looked closer and concentrated on the millions of tiny cells that made up their bodies, he found that he could see _through _them. It helped to have the bright combined glow from both moons; had it been completely dark, Mekanek wouldn't have noticed a thing. As it was, the dark lines of where metal plates were soldered together were becoming rapidly visible.

_What the hell is going on? _he wondered.

Making a quick decision, Mekanek whipped out his mace and darted backwards several steps. "Watch out!" he yelled. "It's a trap!" Immediately, five pairs of eyes were trained on the two seemingly normal men. Everyone reached for their weapons, with the exception of Ram Man, who _was _a weapon, and Stratos, who used flight as a form of combat. The men exchanged glances before taking off in the other direction, startling the Defenders.

"Hey!" yelled Teela indignantly. "Get back here!" She made to pursue them, but was quickly stopped by Stratos. In the time that it took her to take her first few steps and for Stratos to throw out his arm, Tri-Klops (unbeknownst to them) had detonated the bombs. Afterwards, Mekanek could never really put the incident into words. The closest he ever came to fully describing it was when he compared it with jumping into a volcano and then realizing that you couldn't fly. Nobody else ever talked about it, though Teela did tell Prince Adam once.

"It was terrible," she whispered, her eyes shining with the awful memories. "The blast knocked me into the air, and all I could feel was heat. I hovered for what seemed like an eternity; the entire time I was being burned alive. I don't remember falling, but when I hit the ground it was like something exploded inside of me! Every one of my nerves were being torn and abused in ways that I didn't think possible. I could smell my own skin burning, I could feel it beginning to blister and swell. All I could think of was, 'How am I still alive?'."

Needless to say, all of them were thrown in different directions. Mekanek went sprawling forty feet into some huts while the others went spinning off into the darkness.

_Why hadn't I noticed it sooner? _was his last conscious thought before he fainted.

* * *

Jamie ducked. "What the hell?!" she yelled as debris and ashes fell from the sky. Okay, she had known something strange was going on, but in all reality, a bomb was the last thing she had expected.

Making sure that it was safe, she sprinted out from behind the rock and ran straight for the burning village. What had happened to those people? Were they alright? Had they managed to get away? As she neared her point of destination, she thought she saw something move, but when she looked in the direction that it been in, she saw nothing. _Must be my eyes playing tricks on me, _she decided.

Skidding to a halt in the center of the ravaged village, she glanced around hopelessly. There was no sign of the others. They must not have survived the blast. However, Jamie was not one to give up so easily, and she took off running again. If there was any chance that those people were alive, then she was going to find it and help in any way possible. Her noble thoughts were brought to an abrupt end when she ran into something very hard, very big, and very male. Shaking the dirt out of her eyes, Jamie managed to get to her knees.

_Man, what did I hit, a brick wall? Damn that hurt. _

Opening one eye cautiously, Jamie looked up at her offender, ready to whip her leg around and knock him off balance should he try to attack. What she saw erased any and all forms of intellectual thought that resided in her brain at that moment.

"What have we here?"

_Wow. I _did _hit a brick wall._

* * *

**A/N**: I'm a bit more pleased with the way that this one turned out. It was fairly easy to edit. I still don't like the fact that Jamie sounds like a Mary-Sue, but that gets remedied as we move onward.


	6. Abrupt Meetings and Unpleasant Conversat...

More revamping.

**Eva91 **- Thankies for the kind words! Yeah, I'm itching to do another Skeletor/Evil-lyn scene too, although it might be a couple more chapters before I get around to it. Glad to see that you like it!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, because Mattel already owns it. I do obtain my rights to Reaper/Jamie.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Abrupt Meetings and Unpleasant Conversations**

* * *

Tri-Klops was relieved.

Skeletor had finally sent the signal.

He was beginning to wonder if there had been a change in plans that he wasn't aware of. Not that it mattered now. Everything was going along quite nicely. Although, there had been that small period of mental hysteria when Mekanek discovered his ploy. It had been close; too close for his liking. One of the droids must have had said something offensive, and Mekanek had jumped in his face and delivered some sort of harsh reprimand. After the initial confrontation, the younger man had leapt back, drawing his club in exclamation. The rest of the Defenders followed suite.

He must've seen the metal beneath the barely translucent shell that covered their bodies. Tri-Klops had agonized over that minor detail for a bit, but there hadn't been time to arrange anything better. Instead, he had settled for mixing the replica epidermis with some pastel coloring, which thickened the solution. Even then, it was entirely possible for one to see through it if there was a bright light shining on it or nearby. The double moons, both in their final phase, had provided just the right amount of illumination for Mekanek to ascertain the robotics beneath the simulated skin.

The one Defender, Teela, had been ready to attack, causing his creations to run. Even robots could recognize danger, especially when it was directed towards them. It was at that moment, when the two droids turned to run, that Tri-Klops had received the signal. He wasted no time in detonating the field.

Voluminous clouds of ashes and flames had ascended into the purple sky, turning it an even darker shade of inky black. The sound was deafening, and Evil-lyn, Whiplash, and Tri-Klops had ducked to avoid falling debris. Entire huts were blown into the sky while others were incinerated where they were grounded. Dirt was thrown around, mixing with the ashes and the smoke. Had it not been for their position, Evil-lyn and Tri-Klops would have suffocated from the resulting residue. The same went for Whiplash, although his thick hide made it easier for him to withstand some of the heavier falling debris.

Eventually, the roaring of the flames died down and the ashes were blown away by the wind. The moment that rocks and shards of metal stopped falling, the warrior, the sorceress, and the Caligar vaulted over their protective barriers and dashed into the ruined village. Their job was to collect the bodies of the fallen Defenders (if anything was left of them) and bring them back to Snake Mountain, where they'd be thrown in one of the dungeons. If they were dead, then they would most likely be cast into the volcano, but if they were alive, well, that was altogether different.

If, by some miracle, they had managed to survive, Tri-Klops wasn't too sure what would happen to them but it most likely ran along the lines of excruciating torture, diabolical tests, and ransoms. That was the way things usually worked.

Their three-man team had split up soon after reaching the center, or what used to be the center, of the village. Evil-lyn and Whiplash ran off the assist with the four Masters who had been blown out of the village's boundaries, while Tri-Klops stayed to search the rubble for Mekanek. He didn't relish the idea of wallowing through the debris; the blasted fool could've fallen anywhere! Debating on whether or not to search the north or south end of the vicinity, he couldn't very well notice where he was going and promptly collided with a foreign object traveling at a very high speed.

"Oomph!"

The air left his lungs in a _whoosh _and he recoiled rather sharply. Had Tri-Klops been furthermore distracted, he would have ended up on the ground, but he managed to stay on balance. The person who he had managed to run into, however, had not been so lucky and was sent sprawling into the dust, rolling through the debris and wreckage.

_Who………on earth? _he wheezed in the back of his mind.

The amount of force with which he had smashed into the other person made him want to believe that he had hit some sort of machine, but that would've been impossible, since Tri-Klops had only brought the two droids. Unless it belonged to the Masters (which he was positive it didn't), there had been no robot, only an idiot. Tri-Klops bent over, one hand on his chest and the other on his knee for support as he slowly regained his breath. His abdomen hurt like hell; something that had felt suspiciously like a shoulder had rammed into it. The only other part of his body that he was worried about was his poor lungs, which had been rapidly emptied of all the oxygen they had possessed.

Other than that, Tri-Klops was perfectly fine.

Finally straightening up, he was met with the most peculiar image he had seen for quite a while. Sitting on the ground in a most scandalizing position was a young girl. She lay completely flat on her back with the exception of her legs; her feet were flat on the ground and her knees pointed skyward, almost giving the impression that she was about to do a round of sit-ups. Her legs were spread apart, as wide as they could go, giving Tri-Klops a rather compromising view.

Quickly shaking a rather disturbing thought out of his mind, he averted his gaze to a safer portion of her anatomy; her face, yes, her face was a very safe place to look at for the moment. The girl's head was thrown back, revealing a slender ivory neck and protruding collar bones. Her hair fanned out beneath her shoulders, illuminating the ground with its stark contrast in color. _It's white_, he noticed. Her full bottom lip was clenched between two rows of straight, bright teeth. Her eyes, which had been scrunched up in pain, opened to unveil the most intense green he had ever seen in his entire life. He decided that they looked like emeralds shining in the sunlight.

Seeing that she hadn't yet noticed him, Tri-Klops took a couple steps back so she had room to stand up. Never one to be caught unawares, he took a defensive stance in case the girl turned out to be an enemy. She rubbed her eyes a couple of times, probably clearing them of ashes or dust, and drew herself up onto her knees. She shook her head once and glared up at him. So she _had _noticed him, which was pretty much a given, seeing that she _had_ rammed into him. Funnily enough, her glare of anger quickly turned into a downright lusty ogle and she gave him the once-over.

"What have we here?" Tri-Klops muttered to himself.

This was a curious one that was for sure. Rarely had he seen someone look at him with desire in their eyes instead of fear. He wondered if she knew who he was and what he was capable of doing. Briefly, he also entertained the thought of what her reaction to his unsettling thoughts moments before would be. He doubted that she would be looking at him in the same way if she knew.

"M'name's Jamie," she quipped as she hopped to her feet. He scoffed as she dusted herself off. He hadn't meant for that little comment to be heard, but the girl had heard it anyways. _She must have exceptional hearing, _he thought to himself. For about two seconds, Tri-Klops had the sudden urge to throw her over his shoulder, take her back to his lab, and run some tests on her. He had never seen the likes of her before and was curious as to what made her tick. Was she a state-of-the-art android or some member of a lost civilization? Where had she come from? Where did she think she was going?

Always curious, he was more than willing to risk Skeletor's anger to find the answers to his endless supply of questions. He had done so before and would do it again. Reality quickly set in, extinguishing whatever thoughts Tri-Klops had been entertaining. There would be time to examine her later; right now, he needed to find Mekanek. Tri-Klops stalked off.

"Wait!"

The feminine yelp encouraged him to quicken his pace and he did so, but was abruptly brought to a halt when Jamie wrapped her arms around his bicep. He turned to look at her, a harsh rebuke on the tip of his tongue, more than ready to send her packing; instead, he ended up gazing into the largest green eyes he had ever seen. Again, he thought of large emeralds.

"I want to come with you," she declared, a undertone of pleading in her voice that made Tri-Klops want to sneer. Who did this little whelp think she was? Had she _any _idea of _where _she was?

Tri-Klops looked her up and down, his "eyes" roving over her lithe form; clothing was sometimes a factor in determining what kind of lifestyle a person was used to. This Jamie wore a full body suit that hugged her skin and provided the standard type of protection, seen in the areas where the fabric was made of thicker, more durable material. Knee-high black boots adorned her feet; the soles were most likely made to absorb a lot of stress and the portion which covered her ankles and calves was reinforced to help her legs absorb shock (such as when she ran or jumped from a high place).

Several straps and buckles crisscrossed each other around her thigh, holding in place a very slim-looking dagger. A belt hung around her waist, sporting many different compartments for storage of small items. She was very well off. Dressed as she was, Tri-Klops was willing to bet that she could take on several of the Defenders alone, providing, of course, that she knew how to handle herself on the battle field. At any rate, it was probably safe to say that she saw a considerable amount of action.

"Um, hello?"

Tri-Klops snapped out of the trance he had gone into. Jamie was standing on tiptoes trying to peer into his visor, a concerned look marring her rather pleasant features. She wasn't, by any means, beautiful. Sort of plain if he compared her to some of the women he had known. No that that really mattered.

"What do you want?" he growled at her, his seemingly infinite patience finally beginning to wear thin. He needed to find Mekanek and report back to Skeletor.

"I'm coming with you," she said matter-of-factly. If he hadn't been so troubled about disappointing his boss, Tri-Klops would have laughed. This mere _child _wished to tag along, did she? Well then, he would show her what it meant for her to indulge herself in matters that were not her own.

"If you follow, you must help," he muttered shortly. Jamie took it in stride and shook her head in the affirmative.

"Sure thing! I'll - "

"You'll be quiet."

Her polite chatter was getting on his nerves already, and she had spoken naught but a few sentences. Tri-Klops jerked his head in the direction he wanted to go in and Jamie followed, her pert mouth clamped shut, eager to please.

_At least she's obedient, _he thought grimly.

* * *

Jamie scowled in her mind.

She did not _want _to be obedient, especially not to someone who was so rude to her when they had barely met! She felt like a servant or something, following after him and trying to keep up with his brisk half-walk-half-jog. If only her brother could see her now! How he would laugh! _I'll teach him! _she thought. No one could tell her what to do in such an abrupt manner.

The man she was following had impressed her at first. His silent demeanor was intriguing, and his hardened features were a testimony to the difficulty of the life he must have led. His body structure was perfectly sculpted and he had the look of a seasoned warrior who was used to fighting to the death and winning.

His armor was nothing out of the ordinary: his shoulders and upper chest were protected by green metal plates, soldered together where his arms met his torso. She noticed that they were hinged to allow proper rotation for his arms. A matching green belt with numerous compartments clung to his trim waist, fastening a black leather kilt in place.

He wore boots that didn't quite reach his knees, but a pair of green knee-guards made up for it. His wrists were protected by gauntlets and a large sword was strapped to his back. The thing that piqued Jamie's interest the most was, of course, his strange head gear. It could have been a regular visor, except that it extended 360º around his head. There were at least two round lenses on it, three at the most. Jamie couldn't figure out their purpose, but it must've had something to do with his fighting style.

As she struggled to keep up with the swift gate of the three-eyed warrior (_I'm going to call him three-eyes from now on, _she thought gleefully, fully intent on having her revenge on his earlier remarks), Jamie's thoughts turned once again to Snake Mountain. Perhaps, if she played her cards right, she could persuade good ol' Three-eyes to take her to Skeletor. Honestly, she didn't think that he'd do it, but it was worth a shot.

"Um, hey………," she started, aware that she had been warned not to speak. Tri-Klops made no signs of having heard her. Hell, he had probably blocked her out completely. The thought infuriated the young traveler. She wasn't used to being ignored.

"Excuse me!" she half shouted. He turned around, his visor whirring as a yellow lens switched places with the blue one that had been occupying the space on his forehead. That was strange. What was the purpose in that? Jamie disregarded it and opened her mouth to speak, but she never got the chance.

_TSSEEEW! _

A beam of golden light shot from the lens, hitting Jamie squarely in the chest and knocking her backwards. "What the hell was that?!" she sputtered, spitting sand out of her mouth. It hadn't hurt in the slightest; her armor was structured to absorb most laser blasts, and the blast from Tri-Klops's visor was similar. The worst that had happened was the fall, in which she scraped her palms. Tri-Klops ignored her question (again) and continued on, finally reaching a still burning pile of rubble. He began to shift through the debris, throwing wood and stone alike in various directions. He seemed to be searching for something.

"What," asked Jamie, "are you doing?"

His visor swiveled, and she found herself looking at the blue lens. "I'm looking for someone."

"Oooookay."

"Start moving those support beams out of my way."

"Grouch."

"Now, before I change my mind and kill you."

Jamie sighed and began to wade through the sea of wreckage, shifting the heavy wood to an area where it wouldn't obstruct Tri-Klops's searching. "You know," ventured the weary girl after some time, "you could tell me what you're looking for and I'd be able to help better."

"No. It doesn't matter."

Jamie shrugged. She could care less.

"Just trying to make life easier on you."

"It doesn't matter because I've already found him."

She whipped around in time to witness the swordsman dragging a battered body out from under the garbage. "Who's that?" she inquired. It looked like another man, but he was dressed differently. He looked pretty young, maybe in his mid thirties.

"It's no concern of yours."

Jamie sighed again. She didn't know why she even bothered to be inquisitive. It was certainly a waste around the man whose very presence screamed "grouch". She didn't care too much for him, at any rate.

"What are you going to do with him? Or can you not tell me that?"

"I'm taking him to the others."

"The others?"

"My………comrades-in-arms, you might say."

"I'm getting the impression that you really don't like them."

"I tolerate them."

"You don't like them."

Tri-Klops shook his head and pulled the unconscious Mekanek (for that was who Tri-Klops said he had been looking for) into an upright position. The young man moaned pitifully and Jamie saw dozens of bloody lacerations marring his otherwise handsome face. "Ouch," she commented. That was going to hurt for the next couple of weeks. "So, where are you taking him?"

Tri-Klops let out a long-suffering sigh, but answered, "Snake Mountain. Do you ever shut up?" Jamie snorted. The man had attempted to make a joke. A pathetic attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

"Every now and then I'll……… wait, say that again."

Within two seconds Jamie was all ears and leaning towards Tri-Klops in rapt attention.

"Did you just say 'Snake Mountain'?"

Tri-Klops, to his credit, managed to hold back a chuckle at the abrupt change in the girl's attitude.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Um, I sort of kind of have business there."

"With Skeletor?"

"You know him?"

"I work for him."

"Whoa."

"Again, why?"

"Again, business."

"Sounds personal."

"Back off."

Tri-Klops held back another laugh, but a small bit of mirth escaped him and his lips turned upwards in a rare smile. "Well, you're lucky," he stated wryly, now more interested the girl's predicament than in transporting the heavy Defender.

"Why am I lucky?" Jamie asked, cocking her head to one side.

"Because," sneered the swordsman, "he's in a good mood."

* * *

**A/N**: Finally, after a decision to remove an entire three paragraphs of Mary-Suish behavior, I am satisfied.


	7. Retreats and Musings

Revamped and ready for action.

**HitokiriKurisuta **- Go ahead and babble! I do it too! Yeah, Trike is tres shmexy! Sorry to hear that your computer stopped working, but I'm glad you managed to get it back online. I know how that sucks sometimes. Hey! Don't bash being weird! Its' a good thing!

**Eva91 **- Thankies! Yeah, it is my firm belief that a villain will not drop what he's doing and go goo-goo eyed over some hot chick that just pops into his life. I hate it when other people do that. Oh well. Yeah, the bad guys are the cool ones. All the good guys (with the exception of Mekanek and Buzz Off) are kind of pansies. Don't worry; I'll be getting around to more Evil-lyn/Skeletor goodness later. Might be a few chapters…But don't leave me! I promise you, there will be an entire chapter dedicated to them and their…..passions. Promise.

**The Dark Temptress **- Glad you're liking it! breaks out margaritas Here's hoping you stick with us!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anyone except Jamie/Reaper and anyone who you do not recognize.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**Retreats and Musings**

* * *

Skeletor tapped his Havoc staff against the cracked riverbed in annoyance. Where was that damned Tri-Klops? It had been thirty minutes since Evil-lyn and the rest of his minions reported back with his pitiful enemies in tow, but Tri-Klops was nowhere in sight. He was irritated mainly because Tri-Klops was the punctual one; at any rate, Skeletor had expected him to be back second, if not first. In the back of his mind, he realized that the one called Mekanek was nowhere to be seen as well, and that Tri-Klops was most likely bringing him about.

But it didn't matter. At least, it didn't now that he knew that time was running out. One of the Defenders, Man-at-Arms, had a homing device that was activated whenever there was a fluctuation of his vitals. In basic terms, the explosion had disrupted the even flow of his bodily statistics, triggering the homing beacon to go off. In lamest terms, it meant that the other Defenders were on their way. Skeletor scanned the charred landscape once more.

_When I get my hands on that idiot, I'm going to show him the meaning of pain! _he decided, when he couldn't see any sign of Tri-Klops. He hated being made to wait. Patience was one of his many qualities, but even that had limits.

Evil-lyn noticed his impatient gesture and sauntered over to his side. "Don't work yourself into a frenzy," she purred delicately, "he'll be back." As she said this, she ran a perfectly manicured hand up and down Skeletor's muscled arm. Skeletor made no acknowledgement of the sorceress's presence, but he did notice the way that she deliberately raked her nails over his skin. He was sure that she knew what she doing, but he didn't punish her for it.

He enjoyed the games that they played.

Evil-lyn was cunning, daring, and mischievous. He was just as cunning (if not more so), sadistic, and always game. He never backed down to a challenge, and Evil-lyn was a walking, talking, living, breathing challenge.

_Just another one for me to conquer,_ he thought fondly. And conquer her he had, many times, in his courts, on the battlefield, in his bed……… Skeletor sighed and tried to squelch his arousal. Not that he minded. Had he really wanted to, he would've taken her right there. He'd done so before.

However, Evil-lyn hadn't really appreciated it that time, and Skeletor doubted that she'd change her preferences to accommodate for a second. Women seemed to have a fierce keenness for privacy when indulging themselves in activities such as sex. Skeletor didn't pretend to know how they operated. He was skilled in the art of battle and strategy, not the intricate workings of the female mind. Evil-lyn continued to drag her sharp nails over his skin, hard enough to leave marks, but not so hard as to draw blood.

"Evil-lyn," he remarked casually, "if you wish to find yourself deprived of all your clothing, by all means, please continue what you are doing." Evil-lyn smiled wickedly, and continued to stroke his skin.

"I might just take you up on that," she purred back.

Skeletor would have smiled if he had lips. Daring didn't do her justice. She was audacious. Absolutely, wonderfully, wickedly audacious. "Be careful what you wish for, Evil-lyn," he growled. His lover just smiled and walked off.

"Lord Skeletor!"

Skeletor turned towards Trapjaw, who was holding a pair of electro-binoculars. "What is it?" Skeletor asked irately.

"Sir, the Defenders are approaching."

"What?! How soon will they be here?"

"At the speed they're going? I'd say about twenty to thirty minutes."

"How long will it take for us to clear out?"

"About five minutes."

"Get ready in two. Where is Tri-Klops?!"

"Right here, boss."

Skeletor whipped around just as Tri-Klops threw Mekanek off of his shoulder. "Where have you been?!" he all but bellowed. Tri-Klops shrugged.

"I had to look for this idiot," he muttered sullenly, kicking the prone form of Mekanek.

"Next time, report in! I have neither the time nor the patience to look for your worthless ass!"

Tri-Klops shrugged again and bent down to once again hoist the unconscious Mekanek onto his shoulder. As he did so, Skeletor got a good view of the scenery that he had been blocking. It included the still burning village, dark skies, and a girl.

Skeletor did a double take.

A girl.

_What in the nine hells? _he thought but didn't say out loud. Where had she come from? Certainly not the village; all the occupants had been evacuated hours ago. Skeletor looked her up and down, taking in everything from her dusty clothes to the awed expression on her face.

She was an unimpressive girl, to say the least. Hardly worth bothering about. She wasn't even that big; the top of her head only reached to his chest. Had it been any other day, Skeletor probably would've killed her on the spot, but that would've drawn the attention of the rapidly approaching Defenders. For once in his life, Skeletor decided to retreat first and ask questions later.

All of the captured Defenders were quickly loaded into the barred enclosure that had been constructed, to be carried by one of Beastman's massive griffins. Evil-lyn and Skeletor disappeared in a shimmer of light, courtesy of the Havoc Staff. Everyone else was left to their own devices. Beastman, Merman, and Whiplash simply climbed onto the back of the griffin that was carrying the unconscious warriors. Stinkor and Two-Bad both took off running, both of them being pretty fast and having high levels of endurance. Trapjaw looked at Tri-Klops and smiled. "Can't let those two outdo me, can I?" he chuckled before taking off on foot in the direction of Snake Mountain. The only ones left were Tri-Klops and Jamie.

Tri-Klops took something that looked like a remote control from his belt and pressed a couple buttons. Jamie looked around, but saw nothing. Then, her ears began to pick up the low humming of an engine. Suddenly, a sleek transport flew out from behind some boulders and came to a stop in front of Tri-Klops. He put the remote back into the pouch on his belt and swung one leg over the seat of the vehicle. He sat down, grasped the handlebars, and looked pointedly at Jamie.

"Get on," he grated out.

She smiled and jumped on the back of the speeder. Unbidden, her slim arms encircled Tri-Klops's waist, clasping around his belt. He looked like he might want to throw her off, but then decided not to. Without warning, he revved the engine and slammed down on the pedal. The air in Jamie's lungs left her in a gigantic _WHOOSH! _the minute the speeder gathered momentum. Biting back a squeal, Jamie wound her arms around Tri-Klops even tighter than before, closing her eyes at the same time. The scenery was flying by at such a fast pace that it made her dizzy. Tri-Klops just leaned forward, silently urging the speeder to accelerate.

He hoped Skeletor was still in a good mood later on.

* * *

Man-E-Faces and Buzz Off neared the source of the distress signal with shocking speed.

"We need to hurry!" shouted Buzz Off above the roar of the wind. "Someone might be injured!"

Man-E-Faces cupped a hand to his mouth and bellowed back, "I know, but we have to be cautious; it could be a trap!" Buzz Off shook his head sadly as they came to a rest on the outskirts of the village, Man-E-Faces deactivating his speeder. Buzz-Off had flown via his own wings.

"I swear Manny," the Andreenid laughed, "you've got to be the most paranoid man in all of Eternia!"

The actor-turned-soldier chuckled. The accusation was half true. Before Duncan had found him, he had no idea who or what he was. Being a shape shifter, it was possible for him to change into a multitude of different things. The switches had often left him dazed and in possession of a different mindset. He ceased to remember who he truly was and in a fit of schizophrenia ran into the forest, where he constantly shape shifted into different forms. In doing so, he had managed to terrify the living daylights out of the local villagers, who had appealed to Man-at-Arms and King Randor for help. It was Man-at-Arms, or Duncan as he preferred to be called, who helped Man-E-Faces regain his sense of individual identity.

The solution was for him to become an actor, which he accomplished with astounding success. Then, when the Great War came along, he enlisted as a spy. Now, almost twenty years later, he was _still _fighting the evil forces of Skeletor. _What a life, _he thought. Continuing on, it wasn't much longer before they reached their destination. What they saw shocked them. A village sat in a small ravine, or what used to be a village. Charred wood and rocks dominated the area, smoke still rising from the charred remains.

"By the Elders!" exclaimed Buzz Off. "What happened?" Man-E-Faces squatted down and examined some smoldering embers.

"Looks like a bomb went off," he stated knowledgeably. Buzz Off sank down next to him. "How can you tell?" he inquired, praying that it wasn't true, for he knew that it was nearly impossible to withstand the blast of a well placed explosive.

Man-E-Faces pointed at some odd-looking scorch marks on the surrounding boulders and even some of the trees. "Look at those," he said, "they were struck by something. A regular fire would have just blackened them, but the burns are so erratically placed." He got up and walked over to one of the trees, running his hand along the trunk.

"Look, there are chunks of metal embedded in the bark."

Buzz Off nodded in acknowledgement and jumped into the air, hovering over the pitiful remains of the village. "Do you see any sign of the others?" he asked.

Man-E-Faces withdrew his electro-binoculars from his belt and scanned the area. "No, it doesn't look like it," he responded.

"Um, Mannny?"

"Yes?"

"I think I know where the bomb was."

Man-E-Faces jogged over to where the Andreenid was perched on a rock. He wasn't surprised by what he saw. It was a crater where the explosives had been planted, close enough to the village to cause a considerable amount of damage. What did surprise him was the size. The crater was about half as big as the inner courts of the Eternian Palace, and was several yards deep. "What manner of explosives were these?" he asked himself. Buzz Off fluttered his wings impatiently.

"We have to find the others," he said, shaking Man-E-Faces out of his musing.

"Yeah. Sure."

As Buzz Off flew away in search of the Defenders, Man-E-Faces could not help but wonder if they were doing exactly what someone wanted them to do. Maybe this was all some sort of elaborate trap, and they had fallen for it. He almost expected Skeletor to jump out from behind a tree and blast him with his Havoc Staff. There was no doubt in the back of his mind that Skeletor and his minions were behind this.

"Manny!"

The frenzied shout brought him running, and he quickly made his way to Buzz Off's side. "What?" he asked breathlessly. Buzz Off pointed at the ground. There, imprinted in the ashes and dirt, were footprints. Man-E-Faces bent down for a closer inspection.

"Looks like someone was being dragged," he muttered, indicating to the dirt that was scuffed around.

"Can you tell who?"

"No."

"Damn. Do you think it was Skeletor?"

"I don't think, I know."

"We should go get help; there's no way we can take Skeletor and his minions on our own."

"Do my ears deceive me?" chuckled Man-E-Faces, forgetting the predicament. "Is the great Lord Buzz Off actually imploring that we go get help? Surely you jest!"

"Not now, Manny," growled Buzz Off, who simply hovered a bit higher.

"Come on," he urged, "let's go." Man-E-Faces agreed and, mounting his speeder, raced back to Eternos.

_I hope it's not too late._

* * *

**A/N: **Ha. I'm so cool with all this re-editing. I'm my own Beta.


	8. Remembering and Secrets

Wow, this needed a TON of editing.

**Eva91 **- Finally! Someone who sees the villains in the same light as I do! Thank you! Just for you, I put in a little snippet of Evil-lyn/Skeletor goodness. It's not much, but it's for being so patient. Thankies!

**HitokiriKurisuta **- There is absolutely nothing wrong with being weird. Have you tried Hot Topics? They usually have t-shirts along that line. Got one myself that says "I'm not a stalker! Your house just happens to be by every place I go!" Heh, I love it.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anyone except Jamie/Reaper and any other characters that are not recognizable (from the 2002 version of _He-man and the Masters of the Universe_).

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**Remembering and Secrets**

* * *

Evil-lyn swore sharply as the heel of her boot caught on a raised crack in the floor. She nearly lost her footing, but regained it just in time.

Just in time, because Skeletor had just sauntered into the room; had he seen her, he would've tormented her about it until her death. Imagine Evil-lyn, Second-in-command of Snake Mountain and Evil Sorceress, eating the floor! And in Skeletor's personal quarters, no less! She nearly winced at the painful mental image that that one thought had produced.

Skeletor glanced in her direction.

"Is everyone back?" he demanded of her. Evil-lyn gritted her teeth, determined not to mouth off in front of the Overlord of Evil. Normally, she wouldn't have cared, but she was sore, grimy, and tired; totally not in the mood to start something. Besides, Skeletor never asked. He always demanded. Asking nicely never got anyone anywhere; to accomplish things, one needed to be harsh.

Suppressing a sigh, she answered, "We're still waiting for Trapjaw, Two-Bad, and Stinkor. Everyone else made it back." Skeletor nodded his approval and turned to his map of Eternia.

It was enormous, about the size of a queen-sized bed sheet, and extremely detailed. It hung on the wall farthest from Skeletor's bed, overlooking the entire room. Skeletor traced a path from Snake Mountain to Castle Grayskull, his claw's movement over the cloth quick and smooth. Suddenly, he slammed his fist against the wall, making Evil-lyn's eyes widen in surprise. "If only it were that damn easy!" he growled dangerously.

"You're never going to give up, are you?" asked the witch curiously.

"I can't give up! If I did, they would all take me for a weak fool," he spat, his claws twisting the material of the map. Evil-lyn could've rolled her eyes. Men were so protective of their egos.

She knew very well who "they" were; Trapjaw, Beastman, Tri-Klops, herself, and everyone else living at Snake Mountain. She was sure that a part of it alluded to the Defenders of Eternia, as well. It was moments like these where she didn't envy Skeletor. She didn't need to worry about what the others thought of her, or how she presented herself to them. She needn't worry about insubordination or mutiny. She didn't even have to care about how the facilities of Snake Mountain were maintained. Skeletor took care of all that and more.

Evil-lyn sighed heavily and glided over to Skeletor. Tentatively, for she knew how violent he could be when in one of his moods, she placed one hand delicately on his shoulder. He tensed beneath her, neither welcoming her touch nor rejecting it.

"You, Skeletor, are not a fool." Her voice was soft, and it slid over Skeletor's senses like wet silk, calming him and arousing him at the same time. The sorceress's hands moved to the clasps of his cape, undoing them; the heavy material fell to the floor in a heap. The next to go was his chest armor, as her voice turned sultry. "And you're certainly not weak."

An appreciative glance was thrown in the direction of his sculpted chest as she stalked around to face him. "You are anything but weak," she whispered. As she said this, her hands roamed over his broad shoulders, down his neck, and began to trace the outlines of his pectoral muscles.

"Skeletor," she asked innocently, "how long has it been since you last relaxed?" She dragged her fingernail over his flat nipple causing it to peak. Skeletor, his mind beginning to become clouded with lust, didn't answer, but instead shoved her aside.

"Get away from me, witch," he said darkly, turning away from her as he did so.

"What's the matter? Are you………afraid?"

Evil-lyn knew she had pushed her luck with that one. Out of all the things she could've said, she just had to call him a coward. Although, it did have the effect she had anticipated. Skeletor spun around, his empty eye sockets blazing with an eerie red glow. "_What. Did. You. Say_?" he hissed.

A chill shot up Evil-lyn's spine as he moved towards her, his movements slow and predatory. Before she had time to answer, he had pounced on her, pushing her up against the wall. His hands were like cold iron around her upper arms and his face was mere inches from her own.

"Never," he whispered into her ear, "_ever _say that again." Evil-lyn fairly moaned as she felt the evidence of his arousal poking her in her abdomen. Oh, how she enjoyed their little games and what they did to her. She dug her nails into his shoulder as he bent his head forward and nuzzled at her neck. His hands snaked their way down to her hips, where he lifted her slightly so he could wedge one of his thighs in between her legs.

"Evil-lyn," he murmured in between nips, "do you have any idea what you're toying with?" She did her best not to groan as one of his large hands found their way to her breasts, but failed.

"Right now, I could care less if I was playing with fire," she gasped. Skeletor's fingers slipped down her corset and rudely grasped at her breast. "Aah!" Evil-lyn sucked in breath as the sharp pain shot through her central nervous system. His leg was beginning to rub her in places that needed to be touched, and she instinctively bucked against him.

"Tell me, my dear, shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?" The slick oily voice came out of nowhere, but Evil-lyn recognized its owner. She growled once and wrapped her legs around his waist. Taking that as a definite "yes", Skeletor hoisted her over his shoulder (despite her angry protests) and threw her down on the bed.

She bounced once, and then regained her posture. Skeletor decided that he enjoyed the way her mouth worked up and down with no sound coming out. Rather becoming actually, to not have to listen her screech at him. So, before Evil-lyn could persuade her vocal cords to start working, he joined her on the bed, hovering over her like a dragon would its brood. "Bastard," she hissed venomously, her amethyst eyes glowing with fury, Skeletor just chuckled.

"Thank you," he said, and proceeded to show Evil-lyn exactly why one didn't insult the Lord of Snake Mountain.

* * *

Trapjaw stared at the kid. Okay, so technically she wasn't a "kid", but she sure was small enough. The petite girl barely reached his chest and was about as half as wide as the weapon smith. He had been shocked to see her standing behind Tri-Klops, who acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. Though one look at the scientist's clenched fists disproved his calm demeanor. Apparently, this girl had been giving him a difficult time.

Trapjaw thought that interesting, seeing how it took a lot to get under the swordsman's skin, but sure enough, Tri-Klops wasn't in his best of moods. He clearly hadn't wanted to talk about how he had come upon the girl. He still didn't feel like talking when they reached Snake Mountain, so Trapjaw had pushed him up against a wall and demanded to know what the hell was going on, but the answer he got didn't help much.

Tri-Klops simply stated that he had ran into her while searching for Mekanek and had decided to bring her to Skeletor, since it seemed that that was what she wanted; he left out the part where she practically knocked him over. It didn't make any sense; no one came looking for Skeletor. You had to be either really stupid or insane. Tri-Klops assured Trapjaw that it was a bit of both.

The girl had been made to wait outside the throne room, and had been relatively quiet the entire time. She didn't sigh, sneeze, cough, clear her throat, or yawn. She just sat on the floor, waiting patiently to be called forth. Eventually, about two hours later, Skeletor finished whatever he had been doing in his personal quarters and mounted his throne. He sat for a few minutes, observing his uninvited guest.

She wasn't anything extraordinary, as he had observed before. She had the same white hair as Evil-Lyn, but it was longer, ending at her shoulders. She had large almond-shaped green eyes, which were, without question, the most becoming part of the girl. Her skin (what little they could see of it) was pure white, like ivory or bone. That in itself was a bit of a rarity, since the ultraviolet radiation from the sun was so intense that everyone subjected to it acquired a deep tan. The only way to avoid it was to never go outside, which was impossible; after all, the girl had traveled to the Dark Hemisphere, hadn't she?

She was pretty skinny, but gracefully so. She was short too, but next to the men of Snake Mountain, everyone was short. She was clothed in a tight black ensemble made for a warrior, but she carried no weapons. That was another peculiar thing. She carried no weapons, yet she marched into the Dark Hemisphere by herself. Something wasn't right. Either she was cocky or ignorant. Possibly both.

"Come forth," said Skeletor, his voice as silky and smooth as Evil-lyn's when she wanted something. Trapjaw managed to hold back a snort of laughter. So he was going to actually speak with her, then! Normally he had whoever it was thrown into the lower dungeons for a couple weeks. That sucked, mainly because Two-Bad and Stinkor used the unlucky souls to keep their torture skills tuned up. Eventually, Evil-lyn or somebody else would remind Skeletor that there were people in the holding cells requesting an audience with him, and he'd have them released. By that time, it would've been kinder of him to have left them down there, they were so close to death. Skeletor acted like he had no clue where they came from, or what they wanted, in the end "losing" his temper and blasting them with his Havoc Staff.

_He is one sick, twisted bastard, _Trapjaw thought admiringly. Skeletor enjoyed teasing and tormenting his prisoners, up until the point that they were driven mad. He tortured them, manipulated their minds and their bodies, and toyed with their emotions until they were nothing more than an empty shell of what they used to be. That was the way Skeletor was and that was the way that everyone expected him to be. That was why it was so surprising that he permitted her to approach him with her quandary. But then, Trapjaw also had to question the sanity of the girl herself. Nobody came looking for Skeletor.

There are some things in life that a person just doesn't do because common sense tells them that they'll get hurt. You don't jump out into busy streets, you don't mouth off to someone who is three times bigger than you, and you don't talk politics in a bar. At the top of that list of things not to do is "Don't ever seek out Skeletor, especially if you just want to talk." Common sense tells a person that they'll end up dead. Trapjaw supposed this meant that the girl had no common sense. If she did and was ignoring it, well then, she must've had a death wish.

The girl scrambled to her feet and straightened her clothes, which were somewhat wrinkled after her ride on Tri-Klops's speeder. _Wonder what she wants with Skeletor, _mused Trapjaw as the girl approached Skeletor's throne. To his complete and utter surprise, she immediately dropped to one knee and bowed her head. "Lord Skeletor," she said, "it is an honor and a pleasure to subsist in your presence."

Looking about the large cavern, Trapjaw could see that everyone else was just as surprised as he was, if not more so. Evil-lyn looked like she might have wanted to laugh, Beastman was wearing a confused expression, and Two-Bad's mouths were hanging open. Everyone else was in similar conditions. The only one who wasn't affected by the girl's odd behavior was Skeletor himself. Indeed, he looked mildly pleased. "You may rise," he commanded, adding under his breath, _"At least some people still know how to show respect." _

"I only give respect where respect is due, my lord."

Apparently, the girl had very good hearing. Once again, Skeletor looked pleased. "What is your predicament, which causes you to journey into the Dark Hemisphere?" he asked. The girl bowed her head slightly.

"With all due respect, my lord, I will tell you. However, in order to understand my situation, I would need to start from the beginning. It will take some of your time, if you'd be willing to spare it."

Trapjaw didn't know where this girl had come from, but she was obviously well versed in the delicate art of conversation. It was a change from the usual, where you had to sit and listen to people stutter all day long. Still, he couldn't help but think that she was an ass-kisser.

"I'm willing," purred Skeletor, his tone relaxed and compliant. "Have a seat," he ordered again, as a large chair took form behind her. The girl nodded appreciatively and sat as she was directed.

"My name," she began, "is Jamie, and I was born in a land that not many have heard about, or remember………

* * *

My parents were two very renowned adventurers, traveling all over Eternia just for the sport of it. When my mother became pregnant with my brother, Ailil, they immediately settled down in the town of Havenshore off of the southeastern coast of Harmony Sea. They resided there for several years, eventually opening a small pub and shipyard. They became very respected within the community; my father was eventually elected governor. When my brother was still a toddler, Caligars swept through the region, plundering and destroying all in their path.

When the Caligars began to approach Havenshore, my parents took my brother and fled. Since the town was flanked by enemies on all sides, the only option was to escape by sea. They quickly procured a sailing vessel and struck forth in the open waters. They just barely escaped, for the Caligars attempted to follow them. They drifted for many days and on the final day, an unusually violent storm took up. The boat was battered around and around until it finally beached itself. Of course, my parents and brother, who were barely alive, were so glad to finally have reached land that they didn't even try to pinpoint their location; they didn't care, as long as they were safe.

Therefore, it is ironic that they had landed on one island in a chain, called the Berserk Islands. Ironic, because these islands are some of the most dangerous places in all of Eternia. There are three consecutive islands, named in a language that no longer exists, but translates to Pain, Rage, and Lust. They didn't know where they were; had they been aware, there is no doubt in my mind that they would've tried their luck somewhere else.

You see, not many people are aware of the existence of the Berserk Islands; more often than not they are used to tell horror stories and such. The few that do know of them stay away at all costs. Indeed, many believe that they are cursed, which is probably true. Out of the three islands, the worst is Lust. I can't say for myself, as I have never set foot on the wretched thing; however, I _can _speak for my brother, who spent the majority of his childhood there. Unfortunately for him, that was the very island they had come to rest on.

As for myself, I was born and raised on Rage; my father thought it better to separate my brother and me, so that we would not be distracted from our studies. We never saw one another, except for special occasions and whenever my mother deemed it appropriate. Sometimes, my father would even take us back to the mainland in a boat that he had constructed.

Not many people are aware that the islands were created. Those who do know ponder over the creator. The only thing that anyone can agree on is that he was very skilled in Dark Magic. He had to be, for the islands were infected with it. The wildlife and foliage _thrived _on it. Anyone who was exposed to it developed the ability to master it. My parents soon found themselves indulging in some of the minor practices, which soon escalated into full blown sorcery. Likewise, my brother and I were quickly introduced to the realm of magic.

Time passed, as it does, and we grew older. When I was in my teenage years and Ailil was an adult, my parents realized that the islands were having a negative effect on us. I was an extremely angry person, prone to random bursts of violence and having sadomasochistic tendencies. There were times when I grew so enraged that I fell into an actual bloodlust; I wouldn't recognize any member of my family and I tried to kill them. My parents would have to incapacitate me by rendering me unconscious. When I woke up, I could never remember what had happened whilst I was in the bloodlust.

As for Ailil, he became very sexual in and towards everything. Raw sexual power just emanated from his body, drawing those around him into a lustful stupor. I believe that our behavior was a reflection of our surroundings. You see, I was brought up on Rage; I was angry. My brother was brought up on Lust; he was lustful. My parents saw this and had us both relocated to the mainland, in Blackmere, but the damage had been done.

My brother went off and took over a small castle in the Northern Polar Cap, enslaving the villagers and forcing them to do his bidding. He took all the women and held them in his dungeons, using them as he saw fit. I moved in with my brother and became a recluse, so that no one would be able to give me reason to hurt them. Needless to say that my parents were heavily disappointed in the both of us; more in my brother than in myself. They disowned us, and vowed that one day they would defeat us. I laughed it off, not believing them; how could I? They were my parents and I was sure that they'd never hurt us.

So, naturally, I was shocked when my brother came into my room one day, battered and bloody, claiming that he had been attacked by our father. At first, I couldn't believe him; why would our parents attack their own children? But then, I remembered what they had sworn, years ago. They had told us that they would take us down no matter what. The mere thought of it terrified me.

If our parents, who were extremely powerful in their own right, were out to get us, where could we go? There wasn't anywhere we could hide that my parents hadn't already been to. Not that my brother was interested in hiding. He wanted to fight back. He didn't care that it was our parents he was planning to kill, he just wanted revenge. There's nothing wrong with wanting revenge; even I wanted some for myself! The problem was that Ailil wanted to completely exterminate them. He wanted to _kill _our parents. I told him that I thought he was crazy and he just laughed in my face. To make a very long story short, we ended up fighting and I barely escaped with my life.

I traveled as far away from my brother and parents as possible. Avoiding your family is nearly unfeasible, though, especially if they _want _to find you; I was constantly on the run. I even went as far as asking the Council for help, but they just gave me some sentimental crap about reconciling. Like they knew what was going on. Anyways, mistake number one aside, I handled the situation pretty well. I went back to my brother and apologized and he offered me a deal. He proposed that we band forces against our parents and, together, defeat them. It didn't seem like a bad idea at the time, but I was still angry about the whole "Council" incident.

I wasn't thinking clearly.

Another few years passed, and my parents finally caught up with us. There was this awesome battle; you would've liked it. Near the end, everyone looked like walking casualties. It still manages to surprise me that I was able to stay on my feet.

Um, let's see……….there was this huge battle; I'm telling you that you really would've liked it, I know……….

_**Flashback**_

_Blood. _

_It was everywhere. _

_The walls were splattered with it. The drapings hanging on the walls hadn't been dismissed either. The floor however_………_ A thin film of blood covered the entire diameter of the floor of the adequately small room, filling up the grooves and cracks. "Damn," I muttered tiredly, "when you do things, you sure do them big, don'tcha?" Ailil looked at me, his icy blue eyes glittering with the excitement of battle. _

_"What's the point of doing something that no one's going to remember you for?" he asked. "Mind as well do it flashy." I offered him a weak grin. My brother imitated me, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. It was as they had said_………_his heart was as cold as steel. It hurt me, to see my brother so detached from everything around him. It hurt to see him acting like he was immortal. _

_He wasn't. His humanity spoke for itself through the numerous gashes and lacerations his body had obtained during our skirmish with our parents. _Mom……….Dad………., _I thought remorsefully. It was their blood that covered the floor. Most of it was, anyways. A great deal had come from me, not to mention Ailil, the poor fool. _Why is this happening? _I asked myself. _Why is it that they want to kill us?

_I, for one, couldn't believe it. Our parents! Our own parents wanted my brother and me dead! Why? What was it that we had done? I started to ask my brother, to get his opinion on the matter when **WHOOM! **Out of nowhere swung a giant scythe blade, aiming for my head. "Aaaah!" I yelled, dropping onto my side and rolling away from the deadly weapon. Ailil, who had been walking ahead of me, turned around and raised his sword. There was no one there. The scythe had been attached to a contraption of pulleys, ropes, and chains; most likely it had been triggered by stepping on a hair-thin wire. _

_I had to admit it, Mom and Dad had arrived prepared. Of course, I didn't expect anything less. Look at who they were. Ailil helped me up from the floor, his hand cold and rough against my own. "Be careful," he purred. My brother never spoke. Not like a normal person. His voice always held a sultry, sexy, dark twinge to it, almost like some type of exotic accent. Even his movements were erotic. And for me, his sister, to think that_………

_There was something entirely unnatural about him. Hell, there was something unnatural in me as well. Neither of us were who we used to be. _

_"Come on," he whispered, beckoning at a dark corner. I followed, unsure of what he had in mind. We didn't even know where our parents had gone. We had been fighting in the Great Hall, but they suddenly took off running towards the stairs that led to the Observation Tower. Why they did that, I had no idea. Probably part of some brilliant plan to trap me and Ailil. _

_"Hey," I panted, "why don't we lure them back down here? It'd be easier." Truth was, I was dead tired. I knew that if I was made to climb those stairs I wouldn't make it. Better to die on flat ground with my sword in my hand than defenseless in a cramped stairwell. If I had it my way, I wouldn't die at all, but live on for a good eighty-some-odd years. To accomplish that, I would have to avoid the stairs at all costs. But by this time, Ailil was on to me. "Come on!" he urged, grabbing my arm and pulling me along like some little child. I had no choice to but to let him lead me to my doom. We ran up the winding stairs, taking them two at a time. Around and around and around we went, climbing upwards in the never-ending spiral. If I hadn't been so distracted, I might have been dizzy. _

_Within time, we reached the top of the stairs. I leaned up against the wall, wheezing and clutching a stitch in my side. "Can't_………_can't we go_………_a little slower?" I managed to cough out. Ailil shook his head and leered at my doubled over form. "Dear sister," he whispered charmingly, "time is of the essence." _

_I really hate it when he does that. _

_We continued on, using the utmost caution. Our parents could be anywhere by now. I unsheathed my sword, bringing it up to the level of my eyes. If my parents were ready for us, then by the Elders, so was I. My brother saw this and smiled that smile that didn't reach his eyes. _

_It was beginning to get creepy when he did that. _

_We ran up another set of stairs that lead outside, at the top of the Observation Tower. It was night, but that didn't surprise me. Time flies when you're fighting for your life. Had I had a spare moment, I would've sat down and counted the stars. There were so many of them, like tiny fireflies stuck in the sky. The sight of it was breathtaking. I must have zoned out at that moment, looking at the stars, because next thing I knew my brother had shoved me to the ground. I was about to get up and do something childish, like curse at him and call him a few names, but then I saw why he had shoved me. _

_He stood on the battlements of the tower, in between my mother and father. His sword was in one hand, blocking my father's broadsword. His other hand had grabbed my mom's staff and was twisting it out of her grasp. "Get away from me, you lying bastards!" he hissed. "I hate you!" My mother bit her lip, probably to keep from crying. Despite what they said, I could see that this was killing her. We were her only children, her babies. I knew my father felt the same way, even though his expression denied it. He grunted, putting more weight onto his weapon. _

_Ailil just laughed. _

_He laughed and knocked my father back with one upward thrust of his weapon. It was impressive; my father wasn't a small man. Mom gasped as Ailil turned on her, his narrow eyes glistening with hate. Even I was shocked. In all his musings, never once had Ailil said anything about hating our parents. I had merely thought it was procedure, the whole revenge thing. But now, with his teeth bared and his grip on my mom's weapon tightening, I knew differently. With a quick wrench of his arm, Mom went flying onto the platform of the tower, near me. I quickly scrambled to my feet, just in case she tried anything on me. My father was in a similar position, but he had managed to stay on the battlements. _

_Ailil laughed again and I shuddered. What was wrong with his voice? It sounded so_………_evil. It didn't match up with the person I knew, the man I called my brother. "Ailil!" I shouted, my voice battered around by the relentless wind. "Let's get off of this tower! One of us is gonna fall!" I was afraid, I admitted it. The thought of a member of our family (if it could be called that) dying was foreign to me. I couldn't picture myself in a situation where that might happen. But it _was _happening, right in front of me. _

_"Ailil," I whispered, even though he couldn't hear me, "stop." _

_Dad raised his sword towards Ailil's head, swinging it to the side at the last moment. He was going for Ailil's ribs; a weak spot. I almost screamed out, but then realized that I didn't want to. _

_I didn't want my brother to win. _

_I wanted him to lose. _

_I wanted him to lose and I wanted our family to be whole again. _

_I was tired of the fighting and the running. I was tired of all the bickering and caution. I was tired of it all. _

_**CLANG! **_

_Ailil blocked my father's blow at the last moment, his sword seeming to fly out of nowhere. My mother, who had by this time gotten up, thrust the end of her staff towards my head. To avoid it, I bent all the way backwards, my fingertips coming to rest on the cold surface of the tower's platform. One of my legs swung up, kicking my mother in the chin. I felt bad, fighting my parents like this, but I didn't want to die. She reeled backwards, stopping when her hip hit the battlements. "Jamie, don't make me do this," she pleaded, raising her staff at the same time. _

_"I'm sorry Mom," I said. _

_I meant it; I really was sorry about all this. But now was not the time to get sentimental. My mom planted the end of her staff into the ground and vaulted over me, landing in the middle of the platform. She quickly crouched down and swung her leg sideways, catching my legs and knocking me on my butt. That had been dirty. But what I had in mind was dirtier. As my mom stood up to deliver the killing blow, I slammed my hands onto the ground, lifted my legs to my chest, and by kicking out as hard as I could, jumped to my feet. I thrust the hilt of my sword towards her face and ended up hitting her square in the jaw. Mom looked surprised, but not as surprised as when Ailil screamed._

_We both whipped around to face my father and brother. Dad had managed to make a hit on Ailil; his sword was nearly buried to the middle of its blade in my brother's shoulder. Ailil groaned in agony as he pulled backwards. The blade slid out of his skin with a disgusting slurping noise, like someone pulling their leg out of a pit of mud. He fell to the ground, cursing and moaning as he clutched his injured shoulder. I cringed internally, knowing that that had to have hurt. _

_Dad, now unconcerned about his son, advanced towards me with his terrible bloody sword in hand. Mom joined him, and together they cornered me against the battlements. I raised my own sword in front of me, ready to take them out. In the back of my mind, I knew that the only person going down here was me. There was no way I could defend myself against both my mom and my dad. They were far more skilled than I could ever hope to be. My eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. It was my father who stepped forward. _

_"Jamie," he said sadly, "your mother and I prayed that this day would never come. Now that it's here, we're going to give you one last chance: drop your weapon and come home." _

_I almost couldn't believe my ears. Had I heard wrong? They wanted me to come home? Home? As in, a place to stay, with Ailil? They wanted me back? I lowered my sword slightly, but not enough to give the impression that I was surrendering. "Please, Jamie," Mom said, wringing her hands in front of her chest. "Please, honey. We miss you, we want you back." I closed my eyes. _

_Honey. _

_I hadn't been called that since I was a little girl. It felt nice, having Mom say that. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I let my memories wash over me. I remembered my childhood. I remembered playing on the beach and wishing my brother were with me. I remembered my father singing me to sleep when I was scared. I remembered the time when my brother came to visit and we went cave exploring. I almost chuckled to myself as I recalled how we had been terrified of the dark and of the deformed stalagmites that sprouted from the ground. We had ended up running from the cave in pure terror, screaming our heads off the whole way home. _

_Opening my eyes, I could see both of my parents standing before me, a flicker of hope on their faces. Turning my head slightly to the left, I could also see my brother struggling to his knees. Looking back at Mom and Dad, I almost gave into the urge to run into their arms. I almost started crying. _

_Almost. _

_But as I watched them, I realized that even if we went back to being a family, things would never be the same between us again. We would never love one another as we had before. It was too late to mend that damage. Sadly, I shook my head and edged towards Ailil. _

_"What are you doing?!" demanded my father. _

_"I'm sorry," I said, "but I'm not going to abandon Ailil. Not now." _

_My father's face darkened in rage "Then you're a fool," he spat. I flinched. My father had never called me names before; it hurt to hear him say that word to me, meaning it the way he did. "I'm so sorry," I whispered again. I bent down to my brother, to help him up. Problem was, he wasn't there anymore. My mind had about two seconds to think _What? _before I turned around to see Ailil plunge his sword into my father's back. "Aaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhh!" he screamed as the blade pierced his skin. My mom screamed as well, but in fear rather than pain. She twirled her staff, coming within an inch of Ailil's face. _

_**WHAM! **_

_She flew backwards, her lower back slamming forcefully into the battlements. There was a sickening **CRACK! **as the back of her head connected with the stone and she went still. I looked back over at my brother, who held his arm extended out, palm facing the direction my mom had flown in. _

_"No_………_," I whispered. _

_Ailil grunted once more as he shoved his sword deeper into the flesh of my father. _

_"No_………._" _

_With one last push, the tip of his sword broke through Dad's chest, a crunching noise accompanying the trickle of blood that began to flow from the wound. _

_"No_………._" _

_Ailil groaned, his hand coming up to put pressure on his shoulder wound. He limped over to where my mom lay, as still as a statue. _

_Or a corpse. _

_"She's dead," he whispered silkily. I sat down on the platform, hard. It couldn't be. They weren't_………_they _couldn't_be_………_dead_………_could they? No! It just wasn't possible! I shook my head slowly as tears developed in my eyes. I refused to believe it. I refused. Ailil wiped his hand on the material of his pants and, wobbling unsteadily, walked over to where I now sat. He crouched down and looked into my face, his soulless eyes scanning my own green. It didn't escape me that his pupils were dilated at an abnormally large size; I could see no trace of the blue twinkle that I was so used to. "Come on," he said, "let's go." I didn't hear him. I was stunned into complete incompetence. Ailil sighed and walked away, climbing down the stairs that would take him back to the Great Hall. I didn't care. All that mattered was that they were dead._

_Dead. _

_I would never see them again. I drew my knees up to my chest and sniffed. I wished I could turn back time and fix all of this, but time bows to no one, least of all me._

_"No_………_" _

_I buried my head in my arms and sobbed. _

_"Ahhh_………_," A hacking noise brought me out of my tearful haze, and my head snapped up. Was it possible? Were they alive? I tried not to get my hopes up; I knew that it was physically impossible, but I couldn't help it. I crawled over to my dad's side, for he seemed to be the source of the cough. "Dad?" I whispered, daring to hope. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity, cradling his head in my lap. Finally, his eyes opened, revealing dark blue orbs that might've been black. "My little Ainle," he mumbled sleepily. Ainle_………_it was the ancient tongue for "angel"_.

_"My dear, sweet Ainle." _

_I reached over and took his hand in mine and he squeezed it weakly. "Papa it's okay," I said, trying to hide my tears "It's going to be okay. You're going to get better, I - " My father shook his head, cutting off my next words. "It's too late_………_for me," he wheezed. I barked out a hoarse sound, something between a laugh and a sob. My father was dying and he knew it. He was dying and there was nothing I could do about it. "Papa please_………_you need to save your strength." He shook his head again. "Promise me something_………_," he said, "Promise me_………_" _

_"Anything, Papa, anything." _

_"Promise_………_that you'll_………_defeat Ailil. Promise me_………_" _

_I shook my head furiously. I would. I would _kill _him for this. My father coughed and blood spurted from his mouth. "Papa!" I shrieked as he convulsed. I scooted back a bit, so that he wouldn't accidentally hit me as he thrashed about. Then, I realized that he wasn't having seizures. _

_He was in his death throes. _

_I cried out then, pulling him as close to my body as possible. It was in that moment, that split second in time, which our eyes locked. Dark blue meshed with bright green, and I _understood_. I understood why he and Mom had done what they did. It wasn't because they wanted to; it was because they had no other choice. Clarity flowed into my mind, washing away any and all doubt I had had before. As my father drew in his last breath, I made a vow unto him, and myself, that I would eradicate the source of all this. The source of all my pain and anguish. The source of my parent's deaths. _

_My brother._

_Ailil._

_**End Flashback**_

So, that's what happened. I know it probably sounds unbelievable, but it's the truth. So, now here's the big question. My reason for coming here. I need your help.

I need you to help me kill my brother.

* * *

Skeletor drummed his fingers against the armrest of his throne. Jamie, as she had named herself, had finally finished recanting her story. It had been interesting, if somewhat unnecessary. There were some parts that he could've done without, and there were some things that he felt that she should've expounded on.

"I have some questions about your………past," said Skeletor, lacing his fingers together. Jamie shrugged politely.

"I'll answer if I can," she replied. Skeletor could've laughed. She had no say in the matter; if he asked a question, one way or the other, it was going to be answered.

"Why did your parents want to kill you? I seriously doubt they just woke up one morning and decided to exterminate you for no reason."

Jamie looked a bit sheepish. "Ah………I left that part out on purpose."

"Well?"

"It's kind of embarrassing."

"On with it."

"Well, my brother was taking entire villages hostage, and he was destroying everyone who tried to stop him, which was pretty bad in itself. But then my mom found out that he was also using the villagers themselves to feed his………sexual appetite."

Skeletor looked at her. He already understood what she was trying to say, and he saw that it was making her uncomfortable; therefore, he wanted her to say it. It was another one of the games he liked to play.

"Meaning?"

"Uh………he would………uh, rape them."

"All of them? Men, women, and children?"

"Yes sir."

"In what manner?"

"Um, all manners………I guess."

Skeletor slumped down in his throne. Rape was such an interesting crime. He had never participated in it (yet), but he knew that it had certain psychological qualities that could come in handy. He knew that rape victims became terrified of being touched by others. He knew that they would develop an obsession with cleanliness, as they saw themselves as being corrupted and dirty. He knew that there were ways to convince a victim that it had been their fault.

One day, he supposed he might try it, just to see what advantages it gave him; it'd be handy as a torture method, that was for sure. Tri-Klops wouldn't approve of it though, he was too damn honorable. _Not that it matters if he approves or not, _Skeletor thought. When it came to his will, no one's opinion mattered. Skeletor looked at Jamie and waved his hand in her direction, beckoning her to continue.

"Then my father overheard some people gossiping about a savage beast that would kill anything that crossed its path. That was me; prone to random outbursts of violence and anger, remember?" Skeletor nodded his agreement, but made a mental note to look up on it later. Surely there was someone who remembered the time that Jamie spoke of. Mainly, he just wanted proof of the time of the events that took place; he had an idea, but wasn't going to believe it until he had it in writing.

"How was your brother able to kill both of your parents if they were so powerful?" Skeletor asked, refocusing his attentions on Jamie. He was suspicious of her proclaimed magical prowess, especially after the story of the Berserk Islands; highly unlikely, but still probable and thus worth an explanation.

"Well," Jamie mused, "I suppose it was because my brother continued his studies long after our parents disowned us. By the time they caught up with us he was more powerful than they had ever imagined."

"And what of yourself?"

"I dropped out of it. I prefer hand-to-hand combat."

"Do you still recall any practices?"

"A few. I can conceal things in empty space and summon them at will. I can levitate small items. That's about it, really; I never was good at magic."

If he could've frowned, Skeletor would've. Something wasn't quite right here. He didn't know what it was, but it was definitely there. There was something that just wasn't adding up in his mind. It had nothing to do with the story, no, that he sensed was all true. No, it was something else, something more important that she was leaving out. "I'm getting the distinct impression," he muttered dangerously, "that you're not being truthful with parts of your recant." Jamie blanched, apparently surprised by his accusation.

"What is it you're not telling me?" Skeletor rumbled, his hand clenching around his Havoc Staff.

"N-nothing!"

"Lies!"

"I swear it!"

Skeletor stood up and pointed his Havoc Staff in the girl's direction. The skull end glowed and crackled with a large amount of energy. Nearly everyone ducked for cover. They knew from past experience that when Skeletor was in this kind of bad mood, everyone was a target. The ball of energy hissed angrily as more power was put into it, causing it to expand in size. Jamie looked at it in near confusion; she had no clue what was going on. She opened her mouth to say something, but never got the chance.

**SHOOM! **

The ball flew towards her with lightning quick speed. It slammed into her chest, knocking her several feet backwards. She landed on the rocky floor with a **CRACK! **as her head connected with a stalagmite. Her body crumpled in a heap and she went completely lax. Skeletor's eye sockets glowed with rage. "You need to learn some manners," he hissed mockingly. He nodded at Tri-Klops and Trapjaw, who were crouching behind a large boulder. "Take her to the lower dungeons until I decide what to do with her!"

The two evil warriors jumped into action, dragging the unconscious Jamie to her feet and slinging one of her arms over each of their necks. None too gently, they half-carried half-dragged her to the cells used to hold prisoners. "Man," said Trapjaw, "I sure as hell feel sorry fer this one." Tri-Klops nodded, but didn't say anything. Two-Bad and Stinkor would be down here within a matter of hours, intent on torturing the poor girl. She probably wouldn't even survive.

Back in the throne room, Skeletor was brooding. He had dismissed everyone with a withering glance and slouched down. All his minions scuttled away like cockroaches, except for one.

Evil-lyn didn't leave.

Instead, she walked up the stairs to Skeletor's throne and kneeled at his feet. "Impressive display," she murmured. Skeletor merely grunted, not in the mood for her games. Evil-lyn stuck out her lower lip in a mock pout. "What's wrong?" she asked sulkily, knowing very well what was wrong. He didn't answer. She asked him again, adding a bit of a purr to her already sensual voice. Still, he said nothing. Evil-lyn sighed internally. Did she have to do everything herself?

Delicately, but noticeable, she ran her hand up Skeletor's leg and to the inside of his thigh. He kicked out reflexively and looked at the sorceress in near astonishment. "You're never satisfied, are you?" he growled. Evil-lyn smiled as she stood up, prowling around the throne like a vulture circling its prey.

"Sometimes," she admitted.

She swung her hips a bit, drawing Skeletor's attentions away from that annoying brat. "You need to relax more often," she said as she perched herself on the arm of the throne. Skeletor eyed her body up and down, glad for once that his face was nonexistent; if it had been, Evil-lyn would've been able to see the struggle taking place in his mind.

Should he take her right now or go somewhere a bit more private? No sense in doing the deed if everyone in Snake Mountain was going to be a witness to it. He sighed. If he had been honest with himself, he would've found out that he was never satisfied either. With inhuman quickness, Skeletor slung his arm around Evil-lyn's slim waist and pulled her into his lap. She smiled evilly as her bottom came in contact with the evidence of his desire.

The very prominent evidence of his desire.

Her eyes widened a bit as she thought of what was going to take place in a short amount of time. Very short, seeing as how Skeletor had practically undressed her without her knowing it.

"Who's satisfied now?" she whispered.

* * *

Tri-Klops frowned as the door of his workshop hissed shut. He almost felt sorry for the girl; she had only come to ask for help. On the other hand, a very large part of him had been satisfied when Skeletor had blasted her. It served her right for being smart with him earlier on. It also served her right for arousing him; the minute he had touched her he felt a jolt of something fierce rush through him, giving him good reason to hurry up and dump her off at the dungeons where Stinkor and Two-Bad spent most of their free time.

Speaking of those two, he couldn't really say anything to them about torturing her; they'd just laugh at him. Besides, he didn't have the right to tell them who and who not to torture. No one could do that, except Skeletor. Another reason why he didn't bother was that he had tortured people himself, and it would be hypocritical to say otherwise. Still, he didn't want anymore harm to come to the girl for he was still very curious as to her origins. He too had been disappointed by her story, though not for the same reasons that Skeletor was.

Suppressing a sigh, Tri-Klops sat down at his workbench and pulled the plans for a new type of Doomseeker towards him. If everything worked the way it was supposed to, the new Doomseekers would have more potential than the original design had. They would be smaller, more compact, which made it easier to transport them. Their diminished size would also have an advantage when spying on Eternia. It would be able to infiltrate places that had been previously impossible to access.

With a bit of tinkering, Tri-Klops was positive that he could also program the Doomseekers to relay messages to one another, instead of checking all of them individually. Switching screens was beginning to get tedious. It would be easier to access all of the Doomseekers through one of them.

Tri-Klops reached into one of his drawers and pulled out a tool which looked like a cross between several different tools. Studiously, he peeled back a flap of metal plating on the half-finished Doomseeker and inserted the device. It sparked and whirred, but it seemed to be doing its job. The inventor was about to reach for another one, but was stopped when a feminine hand covered his own. "What do you want?" he asked Evil-lyn as she sauntered around the table.

"Skeletor just called a private meeting," she announced.

Tri-Klops sighed in exasperation. "For what?" he snapped. If the distractions continued, he would never get around to finishing the new Doomseeker.

"I believe it has something to do with that girl," replied the witch coolly. Despite how rude Tri-Klops was to those who disturbed him, Evil-lyn had never lost patience with him. It was understandable though; if she could deal with Skeletor and his erratic temperament, then she could deal with anyone.

Tri-Klops continued to work on his current project, even when Evil-lyn put her hands on her hips. "Now," she finally barked. Tri-Klops reluctantly set his tools aside and followed Evil-lyn out of his lab, shutting and locking the door behind him. He followed her down a small hallway that led to an even smaller room. Evil-lyn's pace was quick and professional; she wasn't one to waste time.

Tri-Klops took the time to reflect on his relationship with the sorceress. It was purely professional. Tri-Klops didn't think he could stand being her lover; he knew her sexual appetite to be substantial at least. That and she was known to have a rather volatile temper. Nothing as extreme as Skeletor's, but formidable in her right. Skeletor was the only person to sit through one of her ravings without flinching at least once. Tri-Klops had complete control over his body's reactions, but when Evil-lyn started up with threatening to remove a certain part of his anatomy, he couldn't help but shudder. Especially since she was known to go through with her threats.

He might be third-in-command at Snake Mountain, but Tri-Klops had no wish to test his limits. He knew Evil-lyn was no one to trifle with and he respected that. He always respected those who had earned it.

When they reached the room the council was to take place in, Evil-lyn opened the door with a wave of her hand. Tri-Klops walked into the room, immediately spotting Trapjaw to the extreme right. Skeletor was nowhere to be seen. Figures he'd summon a private meeting only to be late himself. There was nothing they could do about it, though. They must have waited around for a full hour before their master finally showed up.

"Nice to see you all here," said the Lord of Snake Mountain as he entered the room.

"So what's this about?" asked Trapjaw. Skeletor folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall.

"I think that girl isn't telling us something."

"Like what?" rasped Tri-Klops. Even though he liked to keep silent during these things, his curiosity sometimes got the better of him, and he knew that if he hadn't popped the question, no one would've.

"Something important dealing with the time frame of the events that occurred. I don't know exactly what it could imply, but I think we should try and find out."

Evil-lyn tapped her foot against the stone floor thoughtfully. "Do you think that she's just leaving out dates due to a part that she might have played in one of the smaller battles that have taken place these past twenty years?" Tri-Klops shrugged.

"It's possible," he said "When recanting a story, most people tend leave out specific details that cause them to look bad, or even things that the hearer could use against them."

"You mean like blackmail?" asked Trapjaw with a spark of interest. Tri-Klops just nodded. Skeletor pushed himself off of the wall and walked to the middle of the room where he could see the three warriors clearly.

"It's settled then," he said. "Leave her in the cell for a week or so, and make sure that Two-Bad and Stinkor don't touch her; I want her in perfect condition when we question her." Tri-Klops nearly smiled at the verbal irony in Skeletor's words. When he said "perfect condition", what he really meant was to have her in a weakened state where she wouldn't be much resistance. The 'questioning' would take place in Trapjaw's personal chambers, which was where most of the torture devices were harbored.

"That is all; you may leave." Skeletor waved his clawed hand towards the door, pointing to the exit.

_Well, _thought Tri-Klops, _that was interesting. _He was actually looking forward to this. He may have had honor, but he was also evil, which was the larger part of the fraction. He walked back to his lab, intent on finishing the Doomseeker before the night was done. Trapjaw watched him seal the door of his lab and groaned.

It was going to be another long night.

* * *

**A/N: **Moderately satisfied with this one. I might go back and spice it up later.


	9. Broken

**HitokiriKurisuta **- I'm not a mall person either. You're more likely to find me in a bookstore than anywhere else. Or a toy store. Or a comic shop.

**Eva91 **- I'm really, really happy that you enjoy my Evil-lyn/Skeletor stuff. It gives me a warm happy feeling inside! I agree with you about Skeletor's no-face situation………I always thought he had a hot body. I sure as hell wouldn't mind going a round or two with him! Love all the feedback you're giving me. It really helps me see what I'm doing. Thanks again!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anyone, save Jamie/Reaper.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**Broken**

* * *

Prince Adam glanced lazily at a passing butterfly. The insect's golden wings carried it through the garden, momentarily landing on choice flowers to drink its fill of nectar. It was large, about the size of his hand, but so fragile. Adam knew that if he were to catch it, it would be easy to crush it between his fingers.

The lazy smile still on his face, he wondered how something so small and so beautiful could be so delicate. Why hadn't the butterfly developed some kind of defense towards the world that considered it prey? Didn't it know that it was outnumbered and outgunned? The butterfly flitted to and fro, sometimes stopping to rest. _I wish my life was as simple, _thought the prince. Alas, nothing is how we want it to be. Nothing was simple for Adam anymore.

Not since his sixteenth birthday.

He mentally cursed the date as memories rose, unbidden, from the depths of his mind. He had been napping in the royal stables, away from all the noise and the fuss. Big parties weren't really his thing. Sure, he attended them for the sake of his public image and that of his parents, the King and Queen of Eternia, but he never really enjoyed it. Although, if one was to observe him, they would most likely say that he fit in perfectly.

He flirted with every single one of the court ladies and acted like the pompous prince that everyone expected him to be. He could talk politics at a moment's notice and had a knack for telling outrageously funny jokes. The girls of the court swooned over him and the men were jealous of his good looks. It wasn't as if he could help it though. It wasn't his fault that he was a babe-magnet.

Adam chuckled to himself. He could almost imagine the looks on everyone's face if he told them who he was really interested in. He could see in his mind's eye the horrified stares of the women and the amused one's of the men. He could hear the exaggerated whispers and the blatant remarks being made. He could imagine his parent's surprised delight; they'd always thought that he'd be good for her. He could picture the elated cheering of the Masters as they found out. He could even see Cringer and Orko celebrating.

Then a brief flash of fear clouded his mind as he tried to visualize her father's reaction. He wondered if Duncan would be pleased. Surely he wouldn't oppose, unless he had something against Teela being romantically pursued by royalty. Adam didn't think so. In fact, the only person he could see having a problem with the entire thing was Teela herself. She already thought him a coward; if he told her how he felt about her, she'd probably label him as a delusional moron. On the other hand, she probably already thought that about him.

It was no secret that Teela harbored malicious feelings towards the Prince of Eternia. He supposed it had something to do with the fact that he always seemed to disappear when Skeletor's minions were about. It wasn't his fault though! It wasn't like he was really running away and hiding. He just had to find a place that was private enough for him to transform……… Which brought him all the way back to hating his birthday.

He closed his eyes, remembering the incident as easily as if it had happened yesterday. He had just been woken up by Teela, who proceeded to drag him to his party. When he walked through the doors, Adam could just barely make out his parents at the other end of the throne room. His mother had looked relieved and his father had looked………well, he had just been plain irritated.

It seemed to Adam that his father was always irritated with him about _something_. Disappointed was a more accurate word. Anyways, everything had been going great: all of the people were having a great time, Orko wasn't getting into too much of trouble, and Adam was beginning to genuinely enjoy himself. Then Man-at-Arms decided to pull him aside and feed him that bit about a surprise party at Castle Grayskull. Okay, so the entire "surprise party" theory had been Adam's, but what else had he been expecting? Certainly not the Sorceress herself, and most definitely not the Power of Grayskull that allowed him transform into He-man.

He had even laughed at Man-at-Arms and the Sorceress, telling them it was a nice story, but stuff like that just didn't happen. On the way back to Eternia he had complained to himself about the stupidity of it, almost as if he had believed it and was now trying to convince himself that it was nothing more than a fairytale. When he came within sight of his kingdom, he was horrified to find that Skeletor and his minions had attacked the palace; his thoughts on He-man evaporated as he prepared to follow the Defenders into battle at the eastern perimeter of the Evergreen Forest.

Skeletor's small posse was handling itself with deadly precision and viciousness. Thankfully, there had been no casualties, for the Defenders fought back with equal ferocity and thoroughness. Adam had tried to find his father as quickly as possible, taking care of the ex-Caligar Whiplash first. He then asked Mekanek to find his father by means of his telescopic neck, and the spy had told the prince that Randor was settling an old score, whatever that had meant.

Ignoring all the other fighting, Adam had sprinted towards the sound of his father yelling at someone. When the sounds of clanging swords had ceased, Adam had began to run even faster, for the lack of fighting could only mean one thing. Hoping against hope that his father was alright, Adam arrived at the clearing just in time to see a massive griffin swoop over his father's body and carry it off towards Snake Mountain.

The sense of despair swept through the young prince at that moment, almost forcing him to his knees. Had Man-at-Arms not come up behind him and asked him what he was going to do, Adam was sure that he wouldn't have the reputation that he currently had. In a burst of energy fueled by courage and his love for his father, Adam had ran back to Castle Grayskull and allowed the Sorceress to show him what he had earlier ridiculed. She led him deep within the confines of Grayskull, through twists and turns that seemed to disappear when he turned to back to look at them.

The whole place was a maze; the only reason he didn't get lost in the intricate labyrinth was because the Sorceress didn't want him to. She led him farther and farther into the inner recesses of the Castle, until she stopped in a small room. Adam remembered the stone floor beneath his feet jarring and shifting, eventually detaching itself from the rest of the floor and lowering itself into another room. Although, he wasn't sure he could call it a true room; it didn't have four walls, a ceiling, or a floor. It was dimensionless.

The air was blue and hazy, and giant crystalline spikes hung in the air at odd angles. Some of the larger spikes sprouted out of the ground (if there was one to the seemingly bottomless pit) and fanned out at the top, forming platforms that were sturdy enough to hold one's weight. The slab of stone had floated towards one of the platforms and deposited them there; Adam looked back to see the separate stones of the floor break apart and zoom back to their usual place.

The Sorceress had beckoned Adam to her side, just before the giant crystal in the middle of the dais opened up. Inside the Crystal was a small blue orb; the power of Eternia's Elders. The Sorceress flew to the edge of the crystal plate and raised her staff. Blue lightning crackle forth and formed itself into a ball of light as she cast it down into the depths of the chasm. Nothing happened for a while, unless one included every single one of the crystal spears glowing with power. Suddenly, a large, flat wooden box flew up and stopped in front of Adam. It opened of its own accord, and placed within was a giant sword.

The sword was unlike anything Adam had ever seen before in his life. It was quite large and the blade was broad and sharp. He didn't recognize the craftsmanship, but he knew that it was very old and very powerful. The odd thing was that it seemed to pulse with life in his hands, almost as if it knew who its master was. Adam, without being told, raised the sword above his head and shouted, "By the Power of Grayskull!" Later on, he never really understood why he had done that, except that it had seemed like the logical thing to do, like an instinct.

After transforming into He-man, the Sorceress had raised her staff again and pointed it at a cluster of crystals. Lo and behold, out popped Orko and Cringer. He couldn't believe that they had managed to follow him this far into Grayskull. But the Sorceress hadn't seemed the least bit angered by this unexpected intrusion and had in fact suggested that He-man take a loyal partner.

Between Orko and Cringer, the green and yellow-striped tiger was the one he trusted the most. So, pointing his sword at his lifelong friend (purely on instinct), He-man invoked the powers that be and Cringer was transformed into Battlecat. The cowardly tiger was replaced by an enormous armor-wearing feline, claws and all.

Before he left to go help the Defenders, the Sorceress had warned him that the connection between Prince Adam and He-man must remain a secret; otherwise the forces of evil could use the knowledge to hurt his family and loved ones. Agreeing, He-man and Battlecat then raced off. He found the rest of the Defenders easily enough, but the forest where they had been fighting no longer existed. It had been burned away into a wasteland, probably from Evil-lyn's destructive spells. After helping them gain the upper hand, He-man had once again sprinted off in search of the King.

Finding him had been no easy task, but with the help of Battlecat's strong sense of smell it was done. When He-man finally caught up with Skeletor, the evil sorcerer had been just about ready to drop the king off a cliff and into a rocky chasm. While Battlecat engaged in a fierce struggle with Skeletor's Panthor, He-man battled it out with the Overlord of evil himself. It was a fierce battle, with both of them giving it their all.

The only difference between the two was that Skeletor was far more experienced than He-man. But He-man had the vitality of youth and the hardheadedness of a warrior not ready to give up. In the end, Skeletor escaped, but not before tossing King Randor over the cliff. Thankfully, He-man managed to save him and presented him to the Defenders with the promise to appear when they needed him. Back at the palace, Adam was scolded by Teela for running off like a coward and the news of his spinelessness spread throughout the ranks like wildfire. So it was that Adam had earned a bad reputation in battle.

There had been many battles since then, where Skeletor and his evil minions threatened Castle Grayskull, and many times when Adam had excused himself to go "find He-man". He didn't blame everyone for thinking so poorly about him. Hell, he knew that he must look bad, turning tail like that, but what other choice did he have? It wasn't as if he posed a threat to Skeletor as he was.

_I just wish I could tell them. I wish I could make them understand. _

But he had been sworn to secrecy by both the Sorceress and Man-at-Arms; the same thing applied to Orko and Cringer, even though Cringer really couldn't say anything to anyone. It killed him, not being able to tell his friends and family that he was He-man. It would've cleared up so many issues, like where he ran off to before each battle. His father wouldn't consider him a failure and Teela wouldn't mock him every chance she got.

How desperately he wanted to tell Teela. He wanted her to know more than anyone else. He didn't like the way she treated him, but he put up with it. After all, she was his best friend since childhood and he didn't want to lose her. He couldn't bring himself to hate her though; she didn't know why he acted the way he did during battle, and he couldn't tell her. He really hated the way she looked at him when he was He-man. There was such admiring and blatant hero-worship in her eyes that it made him sick. He wished that she would look at him, Adam, like that for once. But he knew that would never happen as long as he had to share lives with He-man. Again, he reminded himself it wasn't her fault.

Briefly, he wondered if she'd hate him for keeping his dual identity a secret. He knew she hated being kept in the dark, and this definitely qualified. She'd ignore the part about it all being for her own good and go straight for the kill. There had been several times in the past where Adam had thought about telling her, just to see her reaction. Each time he had been silenced by a stern look from Man-at Arms and a mental warning from the Sorceress. The silence rule was still in effect.

Slipping back into the present, Adam stretched out and put his hands behind his head. His seventeenth birthday was coming up in a few weeks and preparations had already been made. The entire palace was absolutely buzzing with activity; it reminded him of the time he and his father had visited the Andreenids on a diplomatic mission. Sighing as gently as the soft breeze that was blowing, Adam closed his eyes and sunk into a light doze. But, try as he might, he couldn't fully fall asleep. There was something sharp poking his ribs and it was getting more persistent. Adam blindly tried to swipe it away, but ended up with an impaled finger.

"Ouch!" he yelped, his eyes flying open to land on Man-E-Faces and Buzz Off. They looked irritated. _What else is new? _

"Um, just in case you're wondering, I didn't do it," he said jokingly. They didn't laugh. "Oooooooo-kay, now I know something's wrong." Man-E-Faces reached down and hoisted the prince to his feet.

"We need your help," said Buzz Off.

"Why? What's going on?" asked Adam as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

Buzz Off looked at Man-E-Faces for help; Andreenids weren't known for their ability to tell stories. The other Defender shrugged and recanted what they had seen to Adam, leaving nothing out. Then they told him their suspicions of how Skeletor was involved. Adam felt an unfamiliar tightening in his chest when he heard that Teela and the others had been kidnapped. Really, it was only Teela he was truly worried about, but he held some concern for the others as well. Teela was his best friend since childhood; he didn't know what he'd do if something happened to her. "Is there anyone else we can round up?" asked Adam as the three remaining Defenders marched into the armory.

"Not unless we can convince Moss Man and your father to join us," replied Man-E-Faces.

"No, my father is out of the question; business meeting with the Speleans. Moss Man is a great idea though; contact him." Adam then turned around and began to run off.

"Wait a minute!" yelled Buzz Off. "Where are you going?!" Adam nearly slapped himself in the face. He had forgotten that nobody knew about his He-man syndrome. Quickly, for he didn't want to be held up any longer, he thought of something to say. He settled for what he always said.

"I'm gonna go find He-man! You guys go on without me and I'll catch up!"

Adam waved his thanks at Buzz Off and Man-E-Faces as he ran out the palace gates and through the town. Man-E-Faces turned towards Buzz Off. "Is it just me, or does he always do that?" Buzz Off gave his wings an irritated shake.

"Yes. Yes, he does."

The two Defenders stood there for some time, musing about the comings and goings of the wayward prince. It never occurred to them that Prince Adam was the _only _one who went in search of He-man. It never occurred to them that they had never seen He-man and Adam in the same vicinity at once. They didn't even notice it when Cringer snuck through the gates to join his best friend.

But then, nobody noticed anything anymore.

* * *

Teela felt like biting someone. Preferably someone who was big, ugly, and had blue skin. She had just about had it with Skeletor and his minions. Especially that smug witch, Evil-lyn. Just thinking about the purple clad harpy made the young girl's blood boil. Had the cowards actually faced them off in a real battle, Teela was positive that the Defenders would've won. At least that way she'd get to beat that conceited sneer off of Evil-lyn's face. The evil sorceress was the bane of her existence. Teela shivered and clutched her knees tighter. The dungeon that she had been so unceremoniously shoved in was cold and damp. Definitely not one of the finer places she had been held prisoner in, and she could name a couple.

_I hope He-man comes soon, _she thought.

The young Captain of the Guard sat in a corner of her cell with her legs drawn up to her chin. Her thin arms wrapped around her knees and acted as a pillow for her aching head. Her head really, really hurt. Actually, her whole body was sore. She wished she could just go to sleep and forget the pain, but her militaristic training wouldn't allow her to drop her guard. Teela supposed she should be grateful; most of the other Masters hadn't been so lucky.

Before Tri-Klops and Trapjaw had separated them into separate stalls (_Those self-satisfied bastards!_), her father and she had done a physical check-up on everyone. Stratos had a broken arm and several cracked ribs while Ram Man was suffering from a severe concussion and a dislocated shoulder. She herself and Man-at-Arms were fine, save some minor lacerations and intense bruising. But Mekanek was in bad condition. His right femur was impacted, indicating that he landed hard. There was some nasty swelling going on around the ankle of his already injured leg, so it was safer to assume that he had broken it.

_When in doubt, always take the unnecessary precautions. _

That was one of her father's less heeded mottos. Teela knew from past experiences that when someone was hurt and the extent of the injuries was unknown, it was best to assume that the worst had happened. Mekanek's spine had also been damaged, making it impossible for him to stretch his neck. Teela had done her best to make him more comfortable, but any movement had put Mekanek in excruciating pain, even though he was unconscious.

Then, before anything else could be done for the injured Defender, Trapjaw and Tri-Klops had separated them all into different cells. Teela had fought them for all she was worth, but in the end it had made no difference; Tri-Klops had managed to strong arm her into the cell, quickly locking the door before she could get up from where she had sprawled. It angered her to know that she could be man-handled like that. She was sure that he hadn't been aware of some of the places where he had touched her, but the fact remained that he had. She didn't know why she felt dirty. It wasn't as if he had raped her or anything, although she knew that he was more than capable.

The subtle clicking of a key sliding into its keyhole jolted Teela out of her depressed stupor and she was surprised to see Trapjaw and Tri-Klops standing in the doorway of her prison. Stuffed between them was a young girl with white hair and large green eyes; Teela was mesmerized by those eyes. With a grunt, Trapjaw threw the girl on the floor and Tri-Klops locked the door again, preventing any and all escape.

Teela hadn't noticed. Instead, she stared at the girl, who looked like she didn't like being thrown on the floor any more than she liked being carried around like a sack of potatoes. She shook her head, her white hair shimmering in the dim light that the cell offered. Teela wondered who she could be; a thought passed through her mind that she might be related to Evil-lyn due to her white hair, but she pushed it out of her mind, rationalizing that if it were true, she wouldn't have been thrown in the dungeon. Watching the girl struggle to her knees, Teela realized that she had just found the means to escape. If she and this girl could work together, there was a chance that they could get out of here and rescue the other Masters.

"Ahem." Teela cleared her throat, trying to get the girl's attention without frightening her. Green eyes met emerald when the other girl turned to look at her.

"Who're you?" the newcomer asked skeptically. Teela almost snorted. As if that was important. But she couldn't risk angering her cellmate, so she played along.

"My name's Teela. Who're _you_?"

"Jamie."

So much for not making her angry. The girl's tone had been curt and toneless, as if introducing herself was a waste of time. Teela tried another tactic. "How long have you been here?" Jamie smiled. It wasn't a very friendly smile.

"I've only been in this particular cell for a minute or so, but I've been in another one for a couple hours." Teela was curious as to what Jamie could've wanted so badly that she had to travel into the Dark Hemisphere to get it. Not many people were dumb enough to try that. In fact, the few that _were _dumb enough were killed for their troubles, either by Skeletor himself or one of his underlings.

The question was burning away at Teela's mind like acid, so she asked her cellmate, "What'd you do to Skullface to get thrown down here?" Jamie raised a slender eyebrow at her.

"Skullface?" she repeated. "Isn't that a bit disrespectful, if not childish?" The young Defender blanched. Disrespectful? _Who cared? _This was Skeletor they were talking about, after all.

"You must've hit your head," said Teela disbelievingly. "Skeletor doesn't deserve any respect from anyone. He doesn't even get it from his own minions."

Jamie shook her head in an almost mournful manner. "He gets respect alright. If you can't see that, then you're either blind or stupid."

Teela opened her mouth to say something, but Jamie continued on without letting her speak. "There are different forms of respect. What does it matter what type of respect he gets so long as it's there?" Teela was beginning to feel like an idiot.

"Besides," said Jamie, "I could ask you the same thing: What did _you _do to get thrown in here?" Teela considered lying, but what would profit from it? Chances were, once they escaped, she'd never lay eyes on Jamie again and vice versa. But before Teela could answer, the door once again unlocked and banged open. Clawful stood in the doorway, flanked by Whiplash and Evil-lyn. Teela tried to stand up so she could fight, but a blast from Evil-lyn's staff kept her down.

Whiplash pushed his way into the room and picked Teela up by the ankle. He pulled her up in the air, holding her upside down and growled in her face. "You're lucky," he chuckled. "He-man's here to save you. Pity he won't get the chance."

Teela grimaced at the ex-Caligar, because she knew that this was exactly what Skeletor wanted He-man to do. If he was being true to tradition, Skeletor would have a trap ready. Whiplash chuckled again, a deep throaty sound that held no real happiness, but was just as cruel and malicious as Skeletor's.

Evil-lyn procured two pairs of manacles out of thin air and fastened them around Teela's wrists before Whiplash slung her over his scaly shoulder and walked out of the room. Evil-lyn took the other set of manacles and disabled Jamie in the same way. She then went to lock the door, but stopped before the latch caught on the frame. Her amethyst eyes were wickedly thoughtful as she tapped her chin. Finally deciding what course of action she was going to take, she told Clawful to grab Jamie, who looked less than pleased at the prospect of being hauled around.

"Well," she muttered to herself, "that was a short stay."

"Shut up!" snapped Evil-lyn, giving Jamie a rough shove.

The evil sorceress led the way back to Skeletor's throne room with Whiplash and Clawful struggling to keep up with her quick gait. Teela hoped that He-man had brought along back-up, because she had the feeling that he was going to need it. After what seemed like an eternity, both Teela and Jamie were thrown on the floor of the throne room. Teela immediately sat up on her knees and looked around, hoping to see He-man and the others. While He-man was no where in sight, she quickly spotted her father, Ram Man, Stratos, and Mekanek, who were all tied up in the same manner as she.

They all seemed to be okay, besides their various injuries; Stratos was clutching his arm and Ram Man looked dazed. Mekanek was still out cold, but Teela expected him to be. In fact, it was probably better that he was unconscious, because the pain would be unbearable if he were awake. She could see that whoever had brought them out of the cells hadn't been very mindful of their wounds. Mekanek's leg was twisted in such a way that suggested that someone had hurled him to the ground with the intent of injuring him further; she thought she saw a piece of his bone sticking out of his armor, but she decided that her eyes were just playing tricks on her.

Catching her father's eye, Teela nodded a "yes" to his unvoiced question of whether she was alright or not. He visibly sighed in relief and gestured at Teela again. Her confusion must've showed on her face because her father mouthed the words "behind you". Teela looked behind her, suddenly remembering that Jamie had been brought out as well.

The white haired girl was looking around the room in mild interest, paying no heed to its other occupants. Looking back at her father, Teela shrugged. That girl was a complete mystery and, as far as Teela was concerned, not their problem. What was their problem was escaping. They were being guarded by Whiplash and Clawful; Evil-lyn had gone ahead to aid Skeletor and the others. Teela would've liked to say that the reason behind Whiplash's and Clawful's presence was due to their inability to fight, but she knew better from personal experience.

It was more than likely due to the fact that Skeletor needed someone to guard the Defenders just in case they managed to untie themselves. It had happened before and Skeletor wasn't fool enough to let it happen again. Turning her ear towards the entrance of the cavern, Teela could hear sounds of battle and cries of pain/anger/sadistic glee. She identified the distinct roaring of Battlecat and Panthor as they clashed and explosions that could have been generated by anyone. She could hear the fainter clanging of steel on steel, a sure sign that Skeletor and He-man were engaged in battle.

Teela wasn't that worried anymore; she knew that He-man always won, no matter what. What she was worried about was Mekanek. She wasn't sure because she wasn't a doctor, but she knew that there was a chance that Mekanek might not be able to walk again unless he was treated as quickly as possible. Teela struggled a bit, trying to free her arms from their bonds, but they were too tight and too strong. _I wish I were stronger, _she thought bitterly. She looked over towards Jamie on an impulse, just to see what she was doing. She was surprised when Jamie looked back at her and waved.

Waved, with both hands free.

_How'd she manage to get out of those?! _Teela's mouth dropped open as Jamie stood up and sauntered on over.

"Sorry about this," the white-haired girl said.

"About what?"

"This."

**WHAM! **

* * *

Jamie held back the urge to giggle. The look on Teela's face when she had waved to her had been priceless. It hadn't been easy to get out of the manacles that Evil-lyn had put her in, but a little skeleton key went a long way. Jamie was glad that her Ailil had given it to her, even though she hadn't wanted it.

_What the hell do think I'm going to be doing Ailil? Do I look like a perpetrator to you? _

_Dear sister, you never know where your journeys may lead you._

_Nowhere near what you're insinuating, I'll have you know!_

_Well, you never _really _know_………

She had been so angry at the time. Now, of course, she didn't think anything of it.

She felt kind of bad for knocking Teela out, but it had been necessary; she couldn't risk the chance of the girl alerting the lizard guy and the overgrown lobster of her escape. Had she thought it out, Jamie probably would've realized that Teela wasn't the only person who could've foiled her getaway; there were three others, not including the guy who was unconscious. "Hey!" roared a man with a mustache. Jamie jumped about three feet in the air and spun around, landing square on her butt. The man's shout had also gotten the unwanted attentions of the lizard guy and the lobster man.

_Aw, shit! _she thought. Her head swiveled back and forth between Skeletor's two goons and the exit. _You're not gonna make that! _her mind screamed at her. She pushed the voice out of her head, got up, and sprinted towards the giant crustacean. He seemed mildly surprised at her unexpected charge, but crouched low, claws snapping in anticipation. Jamie realized with dread that those claws looked an awful lot bigger than they previously had. Still, the only way out was to get around the lizard and the lobster.

When she was ten feet away from them, Jamie summoned a giant poll out of thin air and, planting one end in the soft dirt of the cavern floor, vaulted over them. Lobsterman's mouth hung open in shock, but Lizardguy reacted to her move quicker than she had foreseen. His enormous tail swung above his head and connected with Jamie's abdomen.

**WHOOMPH!**

All the air she had been retaining flew out of her lungs as she was knocked into a wall.

**CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! **

Three of her ribs snapped under the enormous pressure, making her eyes water and her breath to come in short painful gasps. Lizardguy's tail pinned her to the upper wall, holding her captive while Lobsterman went off in search of some strong rope. Not one to be outdone, Jamie slammed her armored wrist against the wall, which reactivated her gauntlets. Sharp razor blades _snikted _their way out of a concealed compartment of the glove on her palm and she slashed at Lizardguy's tail, drawing blood.

"ARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH!" he howled, withdrawing his tail.

Jamie landed on her feet, but the pain from her broken ribs nearly made her black out. _Not now_, she thought, _pass out later! _Clutching her side, Jamie hobbled down the tunnel as fast as she could. Thankfully, she managed to reach the entrance to the cavern without further impediment. Taking a deep, painful breath, Jamie started to slide down the side of Snake Mountain, and towards the fighting.

_If I help them, _she thought, _maybe they'll help me. _

Skidding down the rocky slope proved to be harder than Jamie had thought; sharp outcroppings and pits of sand hampered her descent as well as agitated her wounds. Besides her broken ribs, Jamie had accumulated a collection of gashes and bruises from being handled so roughly. Finally, she made it to the foot of the mountain. From her current position, Jamie was able to see all that was going on between Skeletor's forces and those attacking Snake Mountain. _Dammit! _she cursed. She hated not knowing who people were. She could easily tell which warriors belonged to Skeletor, but there were some whom she had never seen before in her entire life.

There was a giant creature resembling a wasp flying around, swinging a painful looking axe at anyone who came within reach. There was also a man who was completely green; he looked very similar to the one that the dark lady had called Beastman. There several others, including a multi-colored man who seemed to be controlling the wind, a man who kept changing his appearance, and a giant of a man riding a green Eternian tiger. A very odd group, to Jamie's eyes. Not that there was anything normal about Skeletor's bunch; they were just as unique, if not more so.

Jamie dodged behind enormous rocks and boulders, trying to get closer to the action without being detected. When she was no more than ten feet away from Skeletor and the large blonde man, Jamie summoned her long-sword. One of the things that she liked about magic, however inadequate her skills were, was its abilities to hold her many items that she wasn't able to carry all day long. Mainly, her weapon and money. It was just easier, not to have to worry about those things. Jamie took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Doubts were going through her mind, telling her that she should just give it up, that it was useless. Angrily, she tried to clear her mind by focusing on the battle at hand, but it was no use.

Knowing better than to sprint out into the middle of a fight with a muddled brain, she sat down amid the rocks and dirt, eliciting a sharp cry of pain when her ribs shifted. She crossed her legs and bowed her head, intent on getting her mind in order. For a total of five minutes, she sat there, completely oblivious to all that was around her. When she opened her eyes, they sparkled with a renewed determination, and her sword disappeared into thin air.

Standing up (despite her ribs' protest), Jamie could see that the fighting had been taken to a whole new level. Blood spattered the rocky ground and fragments of weaponry and Elders-knew-what-else covered the area. The ones doing the fighting had moved away from Jamie's little hiding spot, something for which she was eternally grateful; had she been seen, she probably wouldn't be alive. Quickly checking to make sure that the coast was, indeed, clear, Jamie sprinted out into the open, mindful of her ribs. Elders, they were hurting! The instinct to curl into a ball and try to quench the pain was overwhelming, but Jamie fought it off. There would be plenty of time to faint when this was all over.

"ARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!"

The agonized scream startled Jamie, and she dove behind yet another boulder. "Argh!" she hissed between clenched teeth as her side connected with the solid ground. Whoever had screamed………well, it hadn't been a happy scream, that was for sure. She was willing to bet that there'd be blood, guts, and gore flying about when she arrived at the scene of action. She got up and moved towards the battle again, but slower. Her ribs felt like they were on fire, and she knew that she'd collapse at any given moment.

_Can't_………_stop now, _she thought determinedly. _Wait, there's the three-eyed wonder. Perfect. _

The gruff swordsman she had met was squaring off against the giant wasp. He held his sword with both of his hands, his "eyes" never leaving his target. The wasp guy buzzed angrily, and Jamie could see that his wings were vibrating furiously, even though he was on the ground. He held an axe in his clawed hands, and he was just as attentive as the other. They circled each other, neither one of them letting down their guard. Jamie waited with baited breath, wondering who was going to strike first. She didn't have long to wait; without warning, the swordsman rushed the other, swinging his weapon in a downward arc. The wasp guy parried the blow with the handle of his axe, striking out with his fist as he did so. He managed to catch the swordsman on the jaw, but it did nothing to alter his trajectory.

The three-eyed warrior slammed into the giant bug with his full body weight and knocked him askew. His sword dislodged itself from his hands and both it and the axe went flying off somewhere. Both men quickly stood up and jumped a couple feet away from each other. Jamie watched with awe; this was the best fight she had seen in ages. She couldn't help but notice the way that the swordsman's muscles rippled underneath his skin. Jamie's heart began to pump faster as she observed the way he moved, almost like a cat. _Elders above, _she thought, _why the hell am I thinking about him like that?_

The two men began to circle each other again and Jamie laughed (forgetting all about how fine his body looked), knowing who had the upper hand this time. Her predictions proved correct when the swordsman began to shoot at the wasp guy with the high powered laser beams that were generating from his visor. Briefly, Jamie thought about how easy it would be to remove his visor. It seemed like the logical target. She wondered how many times he had had to repair the mechanical device.

After firing several bolts of energy and missing each time, the swordsman utilized another one of his "eyes", the red one. The blasts coming from the red eye were far more powerful than the yellow one he had been using. Wherever they hit, rubble went flying in a shower of dirt and rocks. The wasp guy was having a harder time dodging, seeing as how he also had to avoid the falling debris.

Jamie wondered why he just didn't fly above it, and then saw that one of his wings was smoking. So, he had been the one who had screamed. Then the wasp guy……… Jamie frowned at her lack of knowledge. She didn't know what he was. She didn't know what anyone was, let alone their names. She didn't even know the name of the swordsman, and he had been the first to meet her. "Meet" probably wasn't the best word to use in that case; perhaps "collided" would work better. As Jamie continued to watch the fighting, she resolved to learn all of these strange people's names and their histories. She had the feeling that the knowledge would come in handy one day.

Finally, after much dodging and running, the wasp guy was struck in the leg by one of the swordsman's blasts. He fell to the side, yelling something in a weird language as he clutched his injured thigh. The swordsman ran over to the other's body and tied him up using a rope he acquired from one of his pouches on his belt. After that task was completed, the swordsman stood up and looked in the direction his sword had landed. Jamie was three steps ahead of him and had the weapon in her hands. But, instead of walking over and retrieving it, he just ran over to help this guy-with-an-enormous-metal-contraption-for-an-arm. Together, they began to tag team the multi-colored man, who was trying to create a dust storm.

Jamie's eyes roved from where they fought and over to where the evil sorceress was casting spells at the green man. She was doing very well and didn't appear to be in any need of assistance. The green man was also a skilled fighter. Actually, he wasn't really fighting. He seemed to be just avoiding her attacks. Jamie realized that he was trying to wear her out instead of physically harming her. She was impressed; no one else seemed to have such qualms about inflicting as much damage as possible.

She tried to find the guy who could change his face, but he was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he had been knocked unconscious and was lying somewhere where he wouldn't get trampled on. Jamie decided to keep an eye out for him, just in case. She quickly forgot about the shape-changer in light of an even more interesting development. Skeletor and the blonde man were engaged in a fierce swordfight (and in Skeletor's case, staff fight) very close to a lava pool. Jamie watched, fascinated, as Skeletor pulled the blonde man close to his body before twisting around and throwing him over his shoulder. He hit the ground with a sickening **_THUD! _**that even Jamie could hear from her secluded position.

It seemed to have an effect on the entire perimeter. Everyone stopped their various skirmishes and looked over at the evil mage and the man that he had just tossed to the ground. Jamie was getting the feeling that the men that Skeletor's hordes were battling looked up to the blonde guy. She could see why; he was strong (Elders, yes), handsome, and he seemed to be the embodiment of everything that Skeletor opposed. Goodness, light, happiness, peace, friendship, justice………

It kind of made her want to gag.

The blonde man tried to get to his feet, but Skeletor stepped on his back and held him down. Simultaneously, he raised his ram's head staff above his head, preparing to bring it down on the blonde man's head; the end began to glow an evil green color. Jamie held her breath, waiting for the shit to hit the proverbial fan. Unfortunately, for both her and Skeletor, that moment never came. Just as Skeletor began to bring his staff down on the blonde man's head, he was knocked off of the man and onto his side; his staff went twirling off into the darkness. Jamie started, realizing that it was already nighttime. The random thought was quickly buried as Skeletor's assailant was made known.

It was Teela.

Jamie's jaw dropped as she witnessed the young girl drop into a fighting stance while wielding a cobra-head staff (_Maybe I should get one; they seem to be in style around here, _she thought stupidly) and looking like she knew how to use it. Behind her, the other men who had been tied up in the throne room aimed their various weapons at the evil overlord (excluding the unconscious man). The shape-changer was with them. _So that's why I didn't see him earlier, _she thought.

She was mildly satisfied with the way these people handled themselves, managing to create a distraction while one of them went off to locate the hostages and set them free. It was so perfect, that she hadn't even foreseen it. Problem was, neither had Skeletor and he was the one paying the price for his mistake. But he wasn't the only one to blame; his minions should have been keeping an eye out for something of the sort, and Lizardguy and Lobsterman were both going to get an earful when Skeletor got back. Assuming he got back in one piece. His minions dared not move for fear of causing one of their foes to injure their leader.

Jamie sighed and automatically winced as the action caused her ribs to ache. It was now or never. She cleared the rock in single jump and scurried over to the swordsman. _Three-eyes, that's what I was going to call him, _she remembered. She hid behind him and prepared to hand him his sword, but he had already grabbed it. Jamie scowled, how had he seen her coming? Surely his visor didn't have constant 360º vision. She puzzled over it for a minute, and then hurried over to the witch. Thankfully, everyone was so engrossed in what was happening to Skeletor that they weren't paying any attention to her.

She noticed that the blonde guy was already back on his feet and his sword was in hand. He was pointing it menacingly at Skeletor and was saying something along the lines of, "Your crimes will not go unpunished blah blah blah justice for all the pain and suffering you have caused blah blah blah you will no longer threaten the innocent lives of Eternia blah blah blah."

Jamie couldn't take it. When the heroes started to monologue, it was time to take evasive action. She dug around in her pocket and pulled out a vial of specially treated gunpowder from Lava Land. Taking careful aim, she tossed it in the direction of Skeletor and the blonde guy. Thankfully, she had a strong arm and the vial landed in the rocks, about three feet away from where Skeletor stood. The fragile glass shattered and the gunpowder, combining with the gaseous atmosphere, created a thick shroud of smoke that quickly filled the rocky plateau.

Not knowing what had happened and not really caring, Skeletor took the opportunity and grabbed his opponent's arm and twisted it back, hard enough so that his elbow joint cracked at the pressure. The blonde man groaned in pain and dropped to one knee, trying to twist away from the source of pain. Skeletor grabbed him by the hair and threw him out of his way.

Threw, mind you.

As in throwing a rock.

Jamie was impressed. She had heard about his astounding abilities in the field of dark magic, but she hadn't been told of his physical strength. She could appreciate that in a guy. Skeletor's minions had not been idle; the witch had dispatched a volley of spells towards the green man, forcing him to fall back, and the swordsman and the guy-with-an-enormous-metal-contraption-for-an-arm jumped the multi-colored man from behind. Jamie smiled to herself; her good deed for the week was done and over with. She stumbled backwards and took off hobbling for her little rocky alcove in which to hide. Unfortunately, she couldn't see anything through her own smoke bomb and like an idiot tripped over something.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that it was the wasp guy. He was still tied up and looked to be unconscious. Glancing at his leg, Jamie could see that he was developing third degree burns along his thigh and kneecap; he was going to be sore in the morning. Thinking quickly, Jamie dragged him out of the way of anyone who might not be watching where they were going and behind a large outcropping of rocks. She was surprised at how light he was. She'd have thought he'd be heavier, as he possessed the physique of a full grown and well developed man. But she supposed that wasp-creature was so lightweight because he resembled a bug in his anatomy; chances were that his "skin" was actually an exoskeleton and he probably didn't even have real bones. _Weird,_ Jamie thought, thoroughly squicked by the idea.

Poking her head above the pile of rocks she was hiding behind, Jamie saw that everyone had cleared out. Hopefully, they had all gone back to their respective homes. She knew she should hurry up and get back to Snake Mountain; Skeletor would be furious if he found out she had escaped. Granted, he was going to be mad anyways, but that did little to dampen Jamie's spirits. She grinned at the unconscious wasp and stood up. She unbound his legs and arms and retied them in a hobble, so that it'd be easier to move. She dragged him to his feet and slung one of his arms around her neck.

Her top had gotten torn when she had gotten slammed by Lizardguy's tail, and the feel of the wasp's cool skin against hers gave her goosebumps. It felt really strange, for his "skin", while giving off the appearance of being smooth, was actually covered in millions of tiny bumps. It was weird, to be sure. Jamie managed to drag the both of them halfway up the slope of the mountain before collapsing. She landed on her knees and then twisted so that she fell on her back rather than her side.

Looking up at the stars, Jamie decided that she liked it here and that she'd stay, even if they didn't want to help her. If one could overlook the deadly pools of lava, the random sulfur geysers, and the intimidating structure of Snake Mountain, it was actually quite lovely. _I'm going crazy,_ she thought. _One too many hits to the head today. I must remind myself to learn how to fall properly_……… The last thing she saw before the pain overtook her was the bright gleam of the moonlight shining off of something metal.

_Three-eyes_………

* * *

**A/N: **I love this chapter, I really do.


	10. Fixed

Edited.

**HitokiriKurisuta** - Thankies!

**Eva91 **- Thankies for your comments! I love doing battle scenes; problem is, I'm not that good at them. Yeah, I kind of caught that and it gets explained in this chapter. Thanks for pointing it out! Oh yeah, this chapter is dedicated to you ;)

**Disclaimer**: I only own Jamie/Reaper. You don't wanna know what I'd do if I owned anything else.

**Warning: This chapter contains adult content that you may not find to your liking. If such is the case, then please skip over the section with the warning. You are, of course, responsible for your own activities.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**Fixed**

* * *

Tri-Klops wiped his bloody hands on the towel that hung at the end of the table and picked up a fine-point needle and a roll of surgical thread. He threaded the end of it through the eye of the needle and cut the string off at about two feet. Turning back to the table, he gazed down at the body of Jamie.

She was alive, but barely. She had three broken ribs, and one of them had been dangerously close to puncturing her right lung. Luckily for her, Tri-Klops had gone back down the mountain to retrieve the Andreenid Defender, Buzz Off. Two-quarters of the way down, he had stumbled across the injured girl and the hobbled Buzz Off. Both had been unconscious, so he had contacted Trapjaw to help him. They had taken them to Tri-Klops's lab, where he began to treat their wounds.

Buzz Off hadn't been all that bad off; a third degree burn covered most of his thigh and part of his knee, but otherwise he was fine. Tri-Klops had smirked when he first saw the distinct circular patterns of the burn, a trademark of his ocular beams. He had no qualms about causing pain, especially when the Masters were on the receiving end of it.

He had applied a simple sterilizing salve to the burn and wrapped it with a special cloth that would allow the burn to breathe while it healed. Personally, Tri-Klops would've rather thrown the overgrown bug in one of the deepest, darkest dungeons, but Skeletor insisted he be kept alive. When finished with Buzz Off, Tri-Klops had immediately turned his attentions on Jamie. He had given her something that would keep her unconscious for the remainder of the day, taking care of her pain and making it easier for him to work on her at the same time.

The first thing he had done was cut away all the material covering her midsection. Her skin was as pure white as her hair, and Tri-Klops was immediately drawn to the reason behind her unique pigmentation.

Was her skin naturally that color or had she done something to it?

Was her entire body bathed in the same soft glow?

Tri-Klops shook the thought out of his head and forced his damned curiosity away. Now was not the time to be distracted by such carnal inquiries. He took the piece of cut cloth and threw it under the table so it wouldn't get in the way. Turning back to Jamie, he prodded her abdomen with both of his hands until he found her broken ribs. He located the fracture line on two of them, but the third one appeared to be broken off completely. That could pose a problem; if it had punctured her lung, she would drown in her own blood.

Thinking quickly, Tri-Klops checked on her respiratory signs to make sure that she was still under. Assured that he had plenty of time to do what he wanted, Tri-Klops went to one of his many drawers and pulled out a tiny scalpel. At this moment, Trapjaw walked in.

"What tha hell is goin' on here?" he exclaimed, seeing Jamie lying on the table, half undressed.

Tri-Klops glared at the intruder but said, "She has three fractured ribs and the one closest to her lung is probably comminuted."

Trapjaw gave him a funny look that said, "You actually think that I understood that?" and Tri-Klops was forced to expound.

"It means that the bone is splintered at the site of impact and smaller bone fragments are found between the two larger fragments." Trapjaw nodded and indicated to Jamie with his biological arm.

"Do ya need any help?"

Tri-Klops wanted to say no, he could do it himself, but then decided that it'd be easier on himself if he had Trapjaw hand him the different surgical instruments that he'd need. "Fine," he snapped. He gathered together the rest of his tools and laid them out on a smaller table next to the one that Jamie was on. Tri-Klops wasn't worried about contamination; his workshop was the cleanest room in all of Snake Mountain. He indicated that Trapjaw stand behind him so that he could hand him whatever he needed.

Taking the scalpel, Tri-Klops very carefully made a vertical incision from the area just underneath her right breast and downward to her hip. He handed the scalpel back to Trapjaw who gave him a pair of clamps that were designed to hold the edges of the skin back while surgery was performed. Tri-Klops did just that, and was soon able to see where her ribs were broken.

The ribs in question were her last two false ribs and her first floating rib. Like he had voiced earlier, the rib closest to her lung was comminuted and the broken shard was inching its way up. Tri-Klops grimaced as he realized that the only way he'd be able to fix it was if he replaced the broken rib with metal plating. It'd be difficult, but it could be done. Another thing that he hadn't foreseen was that the costal cartilage which attached the false ribs to the other ribs had been completely shattered. He'd have to replace that as well.

He ran over to the area of his workshop where he kept the spare parts for the droids he had built and quickly procured three ribs and an attached breastbone. "What are ya gonna do with that?" asked Trapjaw, his eyes going wide at the sight of the steel apparatus. Tri-Klops didn't answer him, but instead grabbed his welder and a few other things. Using a finely tuned laser, he carved off the breastbone piece and two of the ribs so that all that was left of the steel device were the necessary pieces.

He took the replica back to the table and reached into the incision on Jamie's stomach. He pulled out the broken shard and threw it onto a towel, and then took the welder that Trapjaw offered him.

Several hours later, the steel rib and costal cartilage were in place. Tri-Klops was very pleased. He had experienced no complications and actually finished much quicker than he thought. The only thing left to do was stitch her up. The string cut to the appropriate length, Tri-Klops took a pair of metal tongs and held the edge of her torn skin steady so he could puncture it. It took thirty minutes and twice as many stitches to close up her wound. With Trapjaw's help, Tri-Klops was able to sit her up so he could wrap her torso with the same cloth that he had used to treat Buzz Off's burn.

"Hey, Trike," said Trapjaw, finally speaking for the first time in hours, "aren'tcha gonna take the rest of 'er clothes off? I mean, it'd be easier on 'er, don'tcha think?"

"No," the swordsman murmured, continuing to wrap her waist. Trapjaw shrugged and shifted Jamie so that Tri-Klops could get under her arms. The cyborg noticed that Tri-Klops was being extremely gentle with the girl. This wouldn't have been unusual except for the fact that Tri-Klops was rarely gentle with anything except his own inventions. It was kind of amusing to watch him handle Jamie with the same care that he handled his machinery.

Personally, Trapjaw thought it might be a good idea to get his lackluster friend laid. He needed to loosen up a bit. Maybe this Jamie chick was a good thing. She seemed perky enough, though a little young. He didn't know how old Tri-Klops was, but he was willing to bet he was either in his mid thirties to early forties. Definite age gap there. But what was it that Beastman had once said? Oh yeah: the younger, the better.

Trapjaw chuckled a bit at the saying, earning himself a questioning glance from Tri-Klops. He shrugged it off and Tri-Klops finished the bandaging. "Where we gonna put 'er?" asked Trapjaw. He knew that she couldn't stay in the lab; Tri-Klops would never allow it. He also knew that she couldn't go back to the dungeons. Her wound was still raw, vulnerable to any number of infections, and there was no telling what she might pick up in one of the cells.

"She'll have to stay in my room," said the three-eyed warrior.

"Really now?" asked Trapjaw, a bemused tone in his voice. "I didn't know ya had it in ya!" Tri-Klops caught what he was getting at and glared at him from behind his visor. Trapjaw chuckled again at Tri-Klops's reaction and slapped him on the back. "Ya take things way too seriously; when're ya gonna git a sense o' humor?"

"When you lose yours," retaliated the scientist dryly. Trapjaw shrugged good-naturedly and ambled to the door.

"You gonna need anymore help with 'er?" he asked. Tri-Klops shook his head and Trapjaw left. The minute the door slid shut behind the cyborg, he let out a loud, exasperated sigh.

What had he ever done to deserve such company? Oh yeah, he sold his soul to Skeletor. _Why do I put up with him? _he thought tiredly. Normally, such lewd suggestive comments wouldn't bother him, but today he found them irksome and unnecessary. And, if he was honest with himself, a little embarrassing. Jamie was just a kid. True, she had never told them her age, but her body and facial structure suggested that she was a teenager. In some places, sleeping with her could be considered a crime, even if she had consented. Tri-Klops had no wish to bed with her, not now, not ever.

What annoyed him was that his body had other ideas. He was having "thoughts" just by looking at the girl, which surprised him greatly. Normally, it took a great deal to stimulate his mind to the point where he was contemplating such things, but this girl, this _child_, had managed to pull it off twice now, and she had been unconscious both times! And what Trapjaw had suggested he do was nothing short of rape. Even if he had been willing, there was no way that she'd consent. He wasn't as young as he used to be and he was out of practice, so to speak. It had been a long time since he had felt desire flowing through his body, and even longer since he had acted upon it and taken a woman.

Tri-Klops grit his teeth and tried to force the thoughts out of his mind. It worked, but did nothing to stop his libido. His body knew what it wanted, and when. Groaning, Tri-Klops carried on with his original intentions to move Jamie into his personal quarters. He picked her up, one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees. Unsurprisingly, she was very light. He had no problem getting her through the door and down the hall to his room. Like Trapjaw, his workshop was very close to where he slept and easy to get to.

It was nothing extraordinary. Like his lab, everything was in order. His bed was in the farthest corner of the room, next to a bookcase which held books about the land and history of Eternia. The floor was bare, and shelves lined the walls. Tri-Klops breathed a sigh of relief as the door shut behind him. No one had seen him; he didn't want unwarranted rumors spreading around. Gently, so as not to wake her, he shifted Jamie in his arms so that he could put her down on the bed. She didn't wake up, but a small pitiful moan escaped her lips as her side brushed against the cool sheets. That little moan had Tri-Klops sighing in exasperation; he did _not_ want to think about her moaning, in any way, shape, or form. Just the idea that _he_ could be the one causing her to make those little sounds had him on edge.

_Why can't I control this? _he thought angrily. Being a man who had complete command over his body's reactions to stimuli, his present condition unnerved him. Like Skeletor, he despised that which he had no control of, and right now he hated his body for betraying him like it was. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. Getting angry would only make it worse. There were three ways he could fix his problem: find a woman, take a cold shower, or handle it himself.

He wasn't in the mood to search for a woman (as if there were any that were up to his standards) and he certainly wasn't about to pleasure himself. The only option left was to take a cold shower, which he needed anyways. Taking one last glance at Jamie (which didn't help his situation), he stalked into the adjoining bathroom.

_The sooner she leaves, the better, _he thought grumpily as he shed his armor.

* * *

He-man glanced around him to make sure that he was alone. Beside him, Battlecat growled and butted his hand with his enormous head. He-man laughed and scratched his friend under the chin. Battlecat began to purr, a ferocious sound coming from such a large creature.

"We did well today, old friend," said He-man confidently. "I only wish that I had gone with them to the village. Perhaps I would've been able to prevent this all from ever taking place." His expression turned thoughtful. "If I had been there, they wouldn't have gotten hurt."

At this, Battlecat looked up and gave another growl, one that seemed to say, "You can't save everyone." He-man laughed at his companion's well placed rumble, seemingly understanding what he had meant.

"Come on, we've better change back and go see if everyone's all right."

He-man unsheathed his enormous sword and held it above his head. "Let the power return!" he said in a mighty voice. Suddenly, a bright light shone around his body and that of Battlecat's. Within a few seconds, He-man and Battlecat were no more. Prince Adam, the future King of Eternos, and his loyal friend Cringer, the cowardly Eternian tiger, stood in the deserted clearing. "Let's go Cringe," said Adam. He knew that some of the Masters had been injured, namely Stratos, Ram Man, and Mekanek. Adam was especially worried about Mekanek, who had been the most critical condition of them all.

The two friends sprinted through the forest and the marketplace, not stopping when they knocked people over. Adam supposed that he'd hear about it later. They skidded through the palace gates, startling the guards out of their skin, and sprinted up the stairs that led to the main hall of the palace. Adam was greeted with the sight of all the Masters being stitched up, bandaged up, laid up, and generally fed up.

He suppressed a laugh as he watched Teela snub the nutritional fluids that were being offered to her. She had never been one to accept medical help unless it was absolutely necessary. Many times, Adam had either gone to her father for help or carried her to the Healers himself. He had earned quite a few black eyes for his trouble. Walking over to where Teela was sitting, he ignored the spiteful looks he was receiving from his father, King Randor. He was too used to it by now. "Hey Teela," he said cheerfully, "how'd it go?"

**SLAP!**

The whole room went still as the sound of Teela's open palm hitting Adam's cheek reverberated off of the stone walls. "How dare you!" she hissed venomously. Adam raised his hand to his stinging cheek, his eyes wide with shock. "How dare you come in here and act like nothing happened!"

"But I just asked -!"

"Shut up! Where were you?!"

Adam looked at Man-at-Arms, silently asking him for advice. His mentor tried to make his way over to the prince, but was stopped by Randor's outstretched hand. The king's eyes were dead set on his wayward son, no doubt hoping that Teela would knock some sense into him. Adam gulped as Teela's green eyes flashed dangerously. Even Orko had ceased his incessant babbling to watch the long-awaited confrontation. "Where do you disappear to every time there's a battle?" she asked him angrily. "Why don't you ever fight with us? Are you so cowardly that you can't even defend your own kingdom?" Adam flinched at each question, knowing that he could never answer them. Cringer stood at his side, silently taking the verbal blows as if they were being directed at him as well.

_What would I do without you, buddy? _

"I know you can fight, so why don't you?"

By this time, some of the other Masters were looking at him with mildly annoyed expressions, like they were agreeing with Teela. Among those were Man-E-Faces and Syclone. Syclone he could understand; the wind master had never really liked him. But Man-E-Faces………

His heart sunk to the bottom of his stomach.

"Are you listening to me, Adam?!" yelled Teela, grabbing him by the collar of his vest and pulling him forward.

"Teela, I -!"

"You know what? Just don't bother, Adam. Don't," she warned.

With that, she stalked towards the exit that led to the palace gardens. "Think about this," she said, whirling around, "if you'd been there, maybe you would've been able to stop them from capturing Buzz Off." She turned around and fled down the steps, leaving Adam standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by the Masters and his father.

_Buzz Off was captured? _he asked himself dumbly. True, he hadn't seen any sign of the aloof Andreenid, but Buzz Off was a very solitary individual and enjoyed his privacy. Adam had merely assumed that he had flown back to his home, like he usually did.

Man-at-Arms detached himself from Randor's firm grasp and strode over to the prince's side. "He-man is needed," he said softly, giving the boy's shoulder a squeeze. He knew how the boy felt, having to keep these secrets, the same secrets that he himself had to keep.

"I'm sorry," he added. Adam shrugged his hand off and walked out the door, closely followed by Cringer and an unusually sober Orko. "Me too," he said bitterly.

"Me too."

* * *

_**!Warning! - PWP - !Warning!**_

Evil-lyn raised a thin eyebrow at Skeletor as he skimmed over a map of Eternia. "She said that her brother's castle was in the Northern Polar Cap, right?" he asked. Evil-lyn gracefully lifted one shoulder in a half shrug.

"How should I know?" she purred. The Overlord of Snake Mountain turned on the sorceress, his empty eye sockets blazing red with fury.

"You were there," he hissed vehemently. "Or were you not paying attention?" Evil-lyn suppressed the urge to flinch and examined her nails instead. This only served to infuriate Skeletor further, and he slammed his fist against the table.

"Evil-lyn," he stated, his calm voice contrasting with his violent actions, "have you forgotten who you're talking to?" The witch shivered with delightful anticipation. It aroused her when he spoke like that.

"Of course not, my lord. I was being serious; I have no clue where the brat's brother resided." Her voice carried a sultry tone to it, one that Skeletor quickly picked out.

"I have an idea," he said silkily, having caught onto her game. Evil-lyn stretched out in her chair, careful to thrust out her chest a tad more than normal.

"What is it?"

"We help her."

"What?"

Evil-lyn's tone lost all of its lusty charm as she sat straight up. "Why?" she asked, contempt dripping from her mouth.

"Because," said Skeletor, ignoring her tone, "there is something that she isn't telling us and I want to find out what it is." Evil-lyn groaned. This was the third time this night that he had mentioned that subject. She thought he had forgotten about it ages ago. Mentally, she kicked herself for believing that. Once Skeletor set his mind on something, he didn't let go of it until he achieved what he wanted.

"I don't see what the big deal is," she sulked. "For all we know she could be leaving out the part where she spent a few years as a member of the king's harem!" Skeletor cackled then, raising the hairs on the back of Evil-lyn's neck and on her arms.

"That, my dear Evil-lyn, is precisely the kind of thinking that will ruin my chance of capturing Grayskull." His cackle turned ugly as he pounced on her, grabbing her by the throat and yanking her out of the chair. "I can't afford to take any chances," he hissed. Evil-lyn gasped and clutched at his muscular arm; she had forgotten how powerful he was!

"Forgive………me!" she managed to choke out.

Skeletor grunted and released her, turning back to the map. She gasped for air, berating herself for being so careless. She should've known better than to correct him. There was a period of silence between them in which Evil-lyn decided to press him for information. She had the right to know what he was planning. After all, she _was _second-in-command. "What do _you _think she's hiding?" she asked.

"Did you notice how old she claimed to be?" he asked in retaliation. She hated it when he answered her questions with his own. It was so damn annoying. _Bastard, _she thought sullenly.

"She never said."

"Precisely," Skeletor agreed. "She never mentions an exact number of years. It was always 'several' or 'few' but never a solid number. She's obviously older than she looks………"

Evil-lyn quirked her eyebrow at him again. "So she's twenty-something. What's your point?"

"Evil-lyn, my dear, how old does she look to you?" Skeletor's voice was slick with supremacy; he knew something she didn't.

"So she looks younger than she really is. What's your point?"

"My point is, how many people do you know that have been through several battles and witnessed the death of close relatives and still look that young? Think about it." His voice took a harsh edge to it, forcing Evil-lyn to consider the possibilities. When she didn't answer after several minutes, Skeletor continued.

"The Eve of Anguish; that was what they call the night that the Caligars swept over the southern region of Eternia. Would you like to know how long ago that took place?" Evil-lyn nodded mutely.

" Ninety-four years ago," he said, causing his mistress to gasp. "She's defying time."

"How?" Evil-lyn was fully interested now.

"That's what we're going to find out," purred the malevolent warlock. Evil-lyn laughed evilly and clapped her hands together.

"Wouldn't that be perfect?" she asked softly, her tone darkened by her lust for power. Skeletor laughed too, sending another wave of shivers down Evil-lyn's spine.

"All in good time," he muttered. "All in good time." There was another pause in the conversation, this one longer than the first. Evil-lyn shifted in her seat, quickly becoming bored. Although, she had to admit, the scenery wasn't too bad. A wicked smile covered her face as she allowed herself to appreciate Skeletor's finer assets.

His cape and chest armor had been cast aside, giving her an exquisite view of his broad back. His muscles rippled underneath his blue skin, pulling taut every time he clenched his fists. She enjoyed watching him move about. Her eyes slid down his lower back and settled on his hips and buttocks, and Evil-lyn smiled as she recalled just how rock hard his entire body was. She lowered her gaze, albeit reluctantly, to his powerful thighs and calves, which had been deprived of the bracers that normally covered them.

She watched the muscles in his legs relax and then contract as he took his weight off one leg and put it on the other. She stifled a moan as she thought about his prowess in bed, knowing better than anyone on the planet that he was the perfect woman-pleaser. Skeletor turned around at her half-failed attempt, about to inquire what she wanted. The look on her face stopped any and all ability to speak. Her eyes were half closed and her mouth was open slightly, giving her an even more exotic look than she usually had.

She was staring at the front of his being, amethyst eyes roving over his powerful chest and arms, and lingering on the front of his kilt. She licked her lips, a small but extraordinarily effective gesture. The response was immediate; Skeletor growled low in his throat as he felt his manhood stiffen. Her eyes were still on his body, taking in everything at once. Had it not been for her heaving chest, he would've taken the time to be flattered. "Evil-lyn," he said through clenched teeth, "is there something that you find to your liking?" She nodded absently, not quite hearing him.

He took the opportunity to admire her curvaceous physique.

Her head (deprived of its headdress some time ago) sported short white hair, hair that he knew to be as soft as silk. Her large amethyst eyes sparkled with barely restrained sexual appetency. Her slender neck flared out into shoulders that were carried with grace and prestige, a quality that Skeletor found annoying, but endearing. Evil-lyn wouldn't be Evil-lyn if she didn't act so imperial.

Her generous breast rose up and down with each breath she took, making Skeletor even more aroused than he already was. The purple and white corset that she normally wore hoisted her breasts up and out, giving Skeletor a wonderful view. He often observed her out of the corner of his eye when listening to Tri-Klops drone on about some invention or another. She was a wonderful distraction. His 'eyes' continued on until he reached her slight waist and hips. Her legs were long and smooth, ending in dainty feet (her boots had been kicked off earlier). At the thought of what lay between her lean thighs, he let out a low growl.

Evil-lyn heard him and her eyes bore into his nonexistent ones, giving him a come-hither look. He immediately took up upon her silent invitation and grabbed her by the waist, pulled her up, and spinned her around so her back rested against his chest. She moaned again, out loud, as he wrapped his muscular arms around her waist, stroking her through the material of her corset. Evil-lyn's hands came to rest on the back of his own, and he slowly began his torture.

One large hand ascended to her breasts, and he raked his claws over the front of her corset, eliciting a sharp gasp from the witch. The other hand slid down the flat expanse of her stomach and to the spot in between her legs. Another gasp was given as his fingers pushed aside the armored material that clung to her upper thighs and in between her legs. He stroked her through her underwear, noting with pleasure that she was ready and more than willing. Evil-lyn moaned and curled her head to the side, enjoying his slow touch.

With relish, Skeletor took two of his claws and deftly ripped her corset in half, from her breasts down to her abdomen. She gasped, either from the shock of having her clothes ripped off or from the knowledge that yet _another _outfit was ruined. The destroyed corset tossed aside, Skeletor raised his hand to her breast again. His large extremity easily covered her entire mound, and he started to knead the tender flesh. Evil-lyn cried out at this and arched into him, willing him to continue.

Skeletor turned her around so that she was facing him and pulled her with him to the bed. They toppled onto the mattress, Skeletor lying flat on his back with Evil-lyn straddling his waist. She gave him a dirty look. "You're a bastard," she hissed, having wanted to get on with it as quickly as possible. Skeletor chuckled.

"I know."

She gave him another look, but her anger quickly dissipated as she realized the position she was in. Leaning forward until the tips of her breasts skimmed Skeletor's chest she grinned. "Your turn," she whispered cunningly. She ran her sharp fingernails over his chest, deliberately dragging them over his nipples. He sucked in air through his clenched teeth, making a sharp hissing sound as she toyed with him, tracing his chest and stroking his nipples. He shifted beneath her again, fists clenching the sheets underneath him.

Evil-lyn smirked and bent over to kiss his chest. Her soft lips pressed against his skin made Skeletor want to flip her onto her back and pound into her as hard as he could, but he didn't want her to have the satisfaction of knowing that he had been the first to give in. Skeletor grunted and shifted his hips as her wet tongue trailed over his abdomen. The witch was as bad a tease as him, if not worse. When she withdrew her tongue, Evil-lyn reached forward and forcefully glided her fingers over his taut abdomen, casing him to tingle with sadistic delight. He growled low in his throat again, a sign that he was pleased.

Evil-lyn scooted backwards so that she could reach his thighs, where she continued her ministrations. He arched his back when she did this; no doubt he was more than ready to begin their coupling. Evil-lyn paused to smirk at him, earning herself a contemptible glare. She was about to say something incriminating to his person, but didn't get a chance. Skeletor quickly rolled them both over so that he straddled Evil-lyn. She laughed at his eagerness. He had never been one to sit beneath her for long. Skeletor grabbed each of her breasts in each of his hands and squeezed. Evil-lyn squealed at the harsh contractions of his fists and threw her head back. Glad to have gotten her attention, Skeletor lowered his head to her chest and began to nip her with his sharp teeth.

Relentlessly he assaulted her breasts and collarbones, sometimes biting hard enough to leave marks. She cried out, half in pain, half in pleasure. His teeth were soon replaced by his fingers, which pinched her nipples until they peaked. The minute they did, he left her chest and made his way to a far more interesting place. Breathlessly, Evil-lyn watched Skeletor begin his descent to the special area in between her legs. His claws dragged over the front of her skirt, teasing her with what she wanted the most.

"Stop taunting me!" she hissed. Skeletor chuckled and ripped the rest of her clothes off. Evil-lyn laughed silkily as she arched her hips, giving him a wonderful view. He was so hard it was painful. However, he wasn't finished playing with Evil-lyn yet. He still wanted to torture her a bit more. Gently, he stroked her thighs, barely touching her pale skin. The barely-there feeling had her panting in no time, and she whimpered when he refused to touch her where she wanted to be touched the most. His hands just continued to trail up and down her thighs, even grabbing her buttocks at one point; she gasped at his lewdness.

Finally, he stroked the apex of her thighs and was rewarded with a moan loaded with unbridled lust. She parted her legs slightly, a signal that she wanted him to hurry up and get down to business. Impatient as she, but willing to drag it out a bit more, Skeletor withdrew his hand, causing Evil-lyn to release the most pitiful moan he had ever heard. Fortunately for her, those passionate mewlings drove Skeletor over the edge, and he sat up and fumbled with his belt, trying to remove it as quickly as possible. Evil-lyn pushed herself up off of the bed and knocked his hands away from the difficult buckle. Smiling lushly, she unhooked the clasp and ripped it off.

Skeletor sighed contentedly as Evil-lyn reached out to touch him.

"Where was I?" she whispered seductively; Skeletor growled. She leaned forward, but instead of taking him in her mouth like he had expected her to, she began to kiss his abdomen. He was a little put-off. Hadn't she done this already? He jumped when she began to move lower and lower. She kissed his stomach, his hip, the groove where his thigh met his hip, and the base of his shaft. Skeletor groaned as fire shot through his veins. The witch was tormenting him again, dangling what he desired right in front of his face, but keeping it painfully out of reach. He huffed again, making a note to repay her for her impudence.

When he growled in a particularly menacing manner, Evil-lyn retracted her head from in between his legs and gave him a very meaningful look. Taking her hint, and more than a little irked by her teasing actions, Skeletor pushed her onto her back and positioned himself at her entrance. He paused, wanting to see her reaction. He was mildly surprised when her eyes began to glow a bright violet. "Don't stop," she warned.

Skeletor would've smirked if he could've.

Without warning, he thrust into her as hard as he could, slight payback for what she had just pulled. Evil-lyn screamed at the intrusion, but accepted it with relief. He lay still, buried to his hilt in her warm flesh. Her vaginal walls clenched pleasurably around him, sending a whole new wave of rapture through his body. Evil-lyn moaned in ecstasy, and clutched his shoulders. Skeletor began to thrust into her, refusing to give her any more time to adjust to the enormous pressure. She gasped as his strokes escalated in ferocity and depth.

There was no doubt in her mind that he was a magnificent lover. She had never had another man. Skeletor had been her first and he'd be her last. Though she didn't have anyone to compare him to, she knew that nobody would've been able to surpass him. There was no one as physically formidable as him, no one who could give her the pleasure that he could. His thrusts were powerful and passionate, nearly sending her over the edge the minute he had began to drive into her. Gritting her teeth, she tried to hold back her orgasm, refusing to give in that easily. She enjoyed holding out on him, just as much as he enjoyed holding back on her. It was a game that they often played, seeing who would last the longest.

Skeletor propped himself up on his forearms and looked Evil-lyn in the eyes. She was panting in gratification, a sign that he was doing his job properly. It pleased him to know that he was still able to pleasure a woman despite his malformed features. They hadn't been lovers before his face had been destroyed, and he had been shocked when Evil-lyn announced her intentions to lay with him. At first, he had been reluctant to accompany her to bed, but when he realized that she didn't care about his deformity he quickly changed his mind.

Their first time together had been her first time ever, and he had been just as fierce and tormenting as he was now. To his delight, Evil-lyn had been very eager to learn.

Pulled back into the present by Evil-lyn's sharp moans, Skeletor began to move faster. The bed was fairly rocking with his exertions, and he was sure that there'd be dents where the frame met the stone wall. Evil-lyn wrapped her legs around his waist and he thrust harder.

He enjoyed her ability and willingness to take his powerful strokes without fear. He had learned that she liked it as rough as he did. Evil-lyn's nails dug into his skin, though not as hard as his own did. He didn't doubt that he had drawn blood; their couplings usually ended with some form of injuries bestowed on each other. Evil-lyn moaned as a familiar pressure began to build up in her loins, and she knew that it wouldn't be much longer until she gave in to it. Skeletor let a sharp hiss escape him as she clenched down on his manhood, coaxing him to orgasm. He resisted, intent on lasting longer than Evil-lyn.

Suddenly, he leaned forward and bit the juncture where her neck met her shoulder, making her scream. Her orgasm came rushing down on her like a waterfall of hot blooded bliss. Skeletor watched the expressions on her face change from pain to mind blowing ecstasy and he smirked mentally. To him, nothing was more beautiful than a woman in the throes of an orgasm.

Evil-lyn moaned, arching against him, her stomach pressing against his. Satisfied with his performance, Skeletor thrust one last time, and allowed himself to join her on the other side of completion; his body shuddered as he collapsed next to her, his energy spent. Evil-lyn sighed in contentment, and attempted to get up. She was shocked when Skeletor grabbed her waist and pulled her back down on the bed. "I wasn't finished yet," he muttered into her chest. She chuckled.

Skeletor pulled her closer to him. He was still buried within her, and Evil-lyn decided that she rather liked the feeling. Skeletor's head was nestled right in between her breasts, as one of her legs was thrown over his hip. His massive arms were thrown across her waist and she, in turn, snaked her arms under his and sighed again.

It wasn't often that they got the chance to actually rest together after a coupling, and she enjoyed it when they did. It gave her a chance to catch up on her much needed beauty rest. Tired, she closed her eyes and attempted to get some sleep. Suddenly her eyes snapped open and she turned to glare at her lover. He had won. Again. So far, she had not been able to outlast the brute, who she knew had cheated each time. Her glare softened as her body reminded her how tired it was, and she lay back down.

"I'm not finished either," she stated matter-of-factly. Skeletor just chuckled, and she quickly forgot about her promise to fall into a dreamless slumber. As for Skeletor, he stayed awake, his mind back on the supposedly watered down version of Jamie's past. He hoped that his allegations were correct.

Immortality had a nice ring to it.

* * *

Buzz Off groaned in agony. His leg felt like it was on fire and his wings ached with a dull pain.

With effort, the Andreenid Defender managed to sit up, allowing him to observe his surroundings. He was in a darkened cell, carved into the side of the mountain and reinforced with steel bars. Buzz Off pushed himself up against the cold wall (being mindful of his wings) and stood up. His injured leg shook furiously when he tried to put any weight on it, and since it hurt like the nine hells anyways he just used the wall for support.

_How long have I been here? _he wondered. _Surely not any longer than a day or two. _It was then that he noticed the bandage encircling his thigh and knee. Who had done that? More importantly, for what purpose? It wasn't the nature of Skeletor to nurse his enemies back to health. Unfortunately, the only explanation he could come up with was that Skeletor wanted him in top condition so he could torture the hell out of him.

_Damn, _thought Buzz Off angrily as he quickly scanned his confinement area for any weaknesses. There were none. Wincing, he sat back down and stretched his injured leg out as far as it could go. The recent battle swarmed into his mind like a flock of dragons, forcing him to relive everything that had gone wrong. He had been fighting Tri-Klops, the three-eyed swordsman. It was an evenly matched fight………until Tri-Klops had blasted him from behind.

His wings had been hit, and he had been unable to fly away. Even now, hours after the incident, they still ached, but it was a dull, regaining-the-feeling type of ache, so he took it as a good sign. His leg on the other hand had been shot at from an extremely close range of three feet, and by one of the deadlier "eyes" on Tri-Klops's visor. The force of impact had made Buzz Off collapse, and he had slipped into unconsciousness not much later. He remembered the pain being overwhelming and the sensation of being tied up. He scowled as he realized how easily he had gone down. Had it not been for those optic lasers, he would've been able to fly above Tri-Klops and thus gain an advantage.

Next time, he'd be more careful.

Considering there _was _a next time.

He scowled anew as his thoughts turned to Prince Adam, who hadn't even shown up for the battle. As if _that _was anything new. That coward of a boy had run off to find He-man instead of taking care of his problems himself. Buzz Off didn't know the boy as well as Man-at-Arms or Stratos, but he had been under the impression that Adam wasn't the dastard that he often seemed to be. There had been many times in the training field where he had disproved that. He was an expert with a sword, and pretty decent at staffs, though not as good as Teela. He was lithe, fast, and smart, always dodging the more difficult blows and returning them with a volley of his own.

It just didn't make sense.

Why would someone with such skills run away before each battle? Had Buzz Off been in the prince's position, he would've been glad for a chance to test his abilities against his enemies. He knew that some of the other Masters shared the same sentiments, especially Teela and King Randor.

It was a pitiable case.

Had it not been for Moss Man agreeing to help and Syclone unexpectedly returning from Anwat Gar, they would've been defeated as easily as a sleeping infant. As it was, they had had to put up a fierce fight, which eventually ended in a retreat. Buzz Off had been conscious enough to see that part. He even remembered a small girl helping him to safety.

_Who was she? _he thought. It was possible that she had merely been a figment of his imagination, conjured up by his pain-glazed mind. He didn't think that was the case though; her touch had been too solid for an apparition. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what she looked like, but to avail. All he could see in his mind's eye was the figure of a girl.

A soft clanking noise and the sound of heavy breathing interrupted his thoughts, and Buzz Off peered through the bars of his cell, trying to see what was going on. To his chagrin, Two-Bad and Stinkor walked into the room, rapidly discussing different methods of torture. Buzz Off held his breath, praying to the Elders that he wasn't noticed. "What have we here?" smirked Tuvar, the turquoise-skinned, more intelligent half of Two-Bad.

_Damn! _

Stinkor walked right up to the bars and cocked his head to one side. "It seems we have a visitor," he said mockingly. Buzz Off could tell from their tones that he was in for something less than pleasant. It was no secret that Skeletor's minions often tortured their prisoners; sometimes, Skeletor even saw to it personally.

Baddhra grunted and unsheathed a small knife. Tuvar saw this and followed his lead. By now, Buzz Off was beginning to worry. There was no way he'd be able to defeat them, and if he did there was nowhere he could run. Both of his wings were still damaged to the point where he couldn't depend on them to lift him off of the ground, and his leg was pretty much useless. Close, physical combat was not his specialty, and it angered him to admit that.

Stinkor took a key out of one of the pouches on his belt and unlocked the cell door. Buzz Off shrunk back as his soon-to-be-tormentors entered, looking quite pleased with their find. Roughly, Two-Bad grabbed Buzz Off by his bicep and forced him onto his feet. He grit his teeth as his injured leg shuddered; if he took just a couple steps, he knew he'd collapse again. Stinkor closed the door behind them, ensuring that they wouldn't be disrupted.

"Baddhra can torture this one?" asked Baddhra suspiciously in his odd, third-person speech. Tuvar and Stinkor shared an exasperated sigh.

"Idiot," snapped the blue-green assassin, "he wouldn't be down here if we weren't allowed; everyone knows what we do to prisoners." Baddhra growled at his other half and twirled his knife.

"Fine, but if Skeletor gets mad, Baddhra's blaming it on you guys."

Stinkor ignored the bickering mercenaries and walked up to Buzz Off. The Pelleezean stared into Buzz Off's eyes for a few seconds, wondering why the Andreenid saw fit to serve King of Eternos. It made no sense to him. Buzz Off stared back, wondering what he was about to be put through. Suddenly, Stinkor drew back his fist and planted it in Buzz Off's thorax. The Defender gasped and dropped to his knees, gasping for air. Two-Bad chuckled simultaneously and pushed Stinkor aside.

The two-headed warrior yanked Buzz Off back onto his feet by his neck and threw him aside; he cursed as he fell on his injured leg. Both Stinkor and Two-Bad took note of his reaction. They could see that his leg was his weakest point. Taking a vicious-looking whip from their belt, Tuvar told Stinkor to secure the Andreenid. Tingling with excitement, he obeyed and shackled Buzz Off to the wall. He hung their, his clawed feet barely touching the ground. His arms were being stretched painfully, and the muscles of his back contracted in an alarming manner.

Tuvar caressed the side of Buzz Off's face with the butt of the whip, smiling nastily while doing so. He drew the braided leather back and brought it down on Buzz Off's abdomen with subdued force. The leather cord ripped across his armored skin, leaving a thin red line where it struck.

Buzz Off yanked against his restraints and twisted his body away from the pain in his stomach. He clenched his teeth, refusing to give the two evil warriors the pleasure of knowing that he was in pain. Elders it hurt! Even though the blow hadn't drawn blood, it stung like nothing else he had ever experienced. Tuvar laughed again and passed the whip to Baddhra. He, like Tuvar, began to stroke Buzz Off with the handle, but his movements were harsher, and the places he touched tingled with discomfort.

First, his chest was teased, then his abdomen, and finally his hips. Buzz Off struggled again as Baddhra drew closer and closer to his groin; he didn't like where this was going and he wanted it to stop. "Get away from me!" he finally spat. Stinkor smirked at the outburst and sauntered over to Two-Bad's side.

"Need a hand?" asked Stinkor. The double-headed assassin nodded and moved aside to give him room to operate. Buzz Off shrunk back as the Pelleezean warrior closed in on him.

"Don't worry," said Stinkor mechanically, "this is going to hurt you a lot more than it is me."

"AAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!"

* * *

**A/N: **Ha ha, I win at life!


	11. Useless Information

Edited.

**Eva91 **- Thankies! Actually, that was the first smut scene I've ever written. Did it completely off the top of my head, too! I'm really glad it lived up to your expectations! We won't be seeing too much of their sex life now that THE SCENE is completed, but I'll try and put in some Skeletor/Evil-lyn goodness every now and then just for you. (And thanks for beating me over the head with the inspirational stick; feel free to do it again)

**HitokiriKurisuta **- If I owned anyone from He-man, I would make them all bang each other's brains out. , Glad you liked that scene!

**The Dark Temptress **- Thankies very much!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anyone, save Jamie/Reaper

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

**Useless Information**

* * *

Prince Adam, having already transformed into He-man, rode Battlecat towards Snake Mountain. It was pitch black out, but the light of the moon, the stars, and the various pools of lava was enough to see by. _I hope I'm not too late! _he thought frantically as Battlecat hurtled over a small gorge.

It had come as a surprise when Teela had told him that Buzz Off had been captured. A warrior of great prestige, Buzz Off could easily handle anything that was thrown in his path. There had been that one time with the giants, but even then he managed to come out on top. He was well liked within the Defenders, despite his haughty attitude. He was a loyal friend and a ruthless warrior. The minute Adam had been told of his capture, he and Cringer had raced off to transform into He-man and Battlecat. It had been three standard hours since they had left the Evergreen Forest, and they were quickly nearing the base of Snake Mountain.

"Hurry Battlecat!" cried He-man. Battlecat roared and quickened his pace, his paws flying over the turgid sand. In no time at all, they reached a cave entrance at the foot of the mountain.

"Follow me," whispered He-man as he dodged inside. His feline companion trotted after him just as stealthily. They traveled through a maze of tunnels and caverns, past underground rivers of lava and pits of boiling acid. Amazingly, they didn't come across any of the inhabitants of Snake Mountain, for which they were exceedingly grateful. The journey to the dungeons was just as uneventful, causing He-man to become suspicious.

"Surely it wouldn't be this easy." he muttered under his breath. He would've thought that there'd be some type of trap waiting for him, but there was nothing.

No Doomseekers, no Skeleton Warriors, no giant griffins, nothing! There wasn't even so much as a trip wire! Frankly, He-man was relieved, but also slightly disappointed in his adversaries. He'd have expected more from them.

Taking a rather twisted tunnel that led to the dungeons, He-man began to worry about Buzz Off. He knew that Skeletor allowed his men to torture prisoners, especially Defenders. There was a very large chance that Buzz Off would be injured to the point where it'd be foolish to move him. _I only hope I'm wrong, _thought He-man as he crept along. Battlecat seemed to sense his anxiousness, for he gave a small growl and licked the back of He-man's head, who laughed weakly. "Thanks," he whispered.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the small tunnel opened up into a gigantic cavern, with a ceiling as far away as the stars. There were stalactites hanging from the walls and stalagmites sprouting up from the rocky cave floor. Spurts of water erupted from little randomly formed holes, causing Battlecat to hiss. "Shhh!" hushed He-man, putting his finger to his lips. He had thought he had heard something………

Squatting low to the ground, he scuttled forward to peer around a particularly large boulder, something the Dark Hemisphere seemed to have an abundance of. What he saw made his blood boil: Two-Bad and Stinkor were walking together, chatting amiably about different torture methods. What really got him mad was that they were also discussing the prowess of their latest victim, Buzz Off. "He put up good fight," grunted Baddhra impassively. Tuvar and Stinkor shrugged.

"He didn't last that long," the Pelleezean remarked, his voice carrying a disappointed tone; Tuvar nodded in agreement.

"You two just not satisfied for nothing," grumbled Baddhra.

They continued their conversation as they walked out of the chamber, not noticing the tuft of blonde hair that was sticking out from behind a rock. The minute the echo of their voices faded, He-man leapt out of hiding and rushed over to the cells. Quickly locating the Andreenid, He-man was horrified by what he saw. There were bloody lacerations all over his body, the majority of them on his chest and abdomen. His face was bruised and his wings were tattered. Never before had He-man seen his friend in such a terrible condition. Looking closer, He-man also saw that there were strange gashes on his upper thighs and hips. _What could've done that? _he wondered.

"He-man?" asked a weak voice. The blonde warrior jumped, and then realized that it had been Buzz Off who had spoken.

"Hey there," he replied, his tone falsely cheerful. "Don't worry, I'm gonna get you out of here."

Buzz Off nodded mutely and drew his legs under him, trying to stand up. The movements drew a sharp hiss from him, and he quickly leaned against the wall. Hurriedly, He-man broke the lock on the cell door and rushed inside. "Here," he said, throwing one of Buzz Off's arms around his massive shoulder and grasping his wrist. His other arm slid around Buzz Off's waist, careful to avoid the many stripes. Still, the wounded warrior groaned.

"Hang on," said He-man. He managed to maneuver them both through the narrow door and back to where Battlecat was patiently waiting; when the giant tiger saw them approach he stood up and waved his tail ferociously. He-man heaved Buzz Off into a sitting position on Battlecat's back and then hoisted himself up after. "Let's go, Battlecat," whispered He-man. "But be careful!"

With a low purr, Battlecat slunk out of the cavern and down the tunnel. Once he had gotten a safe distance from the entrance of the cave, he began a gentle sprint, so as not to rattle Buzz Off. He-man held on to his friend, making sure that he didn't fall off. For what had to be the hundredth time that night, his blue eyes found there way to the insectoid's thighs and hips.

"What happened there?" he asked gently.

Buzz Off scowled.

"I don't care to talk about it."

* * *

_Sometime Later_………

"Foolish imbeciles!" shouted Skeletor, eye sockets once again glowing an unnatural red. "You let him _escape?_! Idiots!"

Two-Bad and Stinkor were cowering at the foot of his throne, awaiting their punishment. Technically, it wasn't their fault that the prisoner had escaped; after all, how could they have known that He-man was already on his way to rescue the bug guy? They weren't omniscient. Unfortunately, one of the requirements for working under Skeletor was that you had to know what was going on ALL the time.

"No wonder we never seem to get anywhere!" Skeletor continued to rant. "It's because there are incompetents like _you _letting the damn prisoners escape! Of all the obstacles I've faced, it would figure that the most trying ones are those I've employed!" He waved his Havoc Staff around threateningly, but didn't activate its magical properties. Taking this as a good sign, Two-Bad and Stinkor slowly straightened their posture.

"I should kill you all now for your failure to - "

"Is all this shouting really necessary?" asked Evil-lyn. She sashayed into the throne room, well aware of her tardiness and doing nothing about it. "You should try lowering your voices; there are people still trying to sleep." Skeletor growled low in his throat, warning her to shut up. Reluctantly, she did so and he continued to berate Stinkor and Two-Bad. Ten minutes, four beatings, and a hoarse throat later, Skeletor was relatively calm.

"Where's Tri-Klops?" he grumbled. Evil-lyn chuckled.

"The sleeping body I was speaking of earlier," she said. Skeletor was almost surprised; Tri-Klops was usually the first to rise in the morning and the last to retire for the day.

"What is he doing asleep?" asked an incredulous Skeletor. "I gave everyone an order to be up early to discuss our next course of action!"

"I don't believe he was at that meeting either."

It was unbelievable. Skeletor was half inclined to go throw himself off of Snake Mountain before the rest of the apocalypse hit. It was so out of character for Tri-Klops to be late for anything, let alone not show up at all. Nonetheless, he hated it when his own minions failed to comply with his demands. "Someone go wake him up," he hissed, clutching the arms of his throne so as not to murder or maim anyone.

Trapjaw immediately left, sensing impending doom; Skeletor's temper had become legendary among the troops and even though he tried to hold back, Trapjaw knew that there'd be more than just a few bruises and burns when he returned. Closing the huge door behind him, Trapjaw quickly made his way to Tri-Klops's room. As if on cue, there was a sharp crackling sound, a loud yelp, a thump, and a stream of colorful words resonating from the chamber he had just left.

"Close one," he mumbled to himself.

* * *

Jamie groaned and rolled over. Something was shaking her shoulder, attempting to wake her up, but she didn't want to. "Leeme 'lone," she mumbled into her pillow. The shaking became more insistent and she swung out an arm, hoping to hit whoever or whatever was disturbing her. She was successful, but her arm had collided with something very firm and did little more than make a sharp slapping sound. "Go 'way!" she moaned again.

"Stop whining and wake up," said an unmistakably male voice. Jamie's eyes snapped open and she sat straight up, wincing at the pain in her side. Everything came flooding back to her; her journey, imprisonment, the battle, getting hurt……… She winced at the memory of being smashed into the ceiling and instinctively looked down at her stomach, which was bound in several rolls of bandages.

_Now who did that?_ she wondered, mind swimming as she tried to think up a credible solution.Her overtaxed mind was beginning to fail her; she wasn't even able to form a coherent thought. Jamie took a few deep breaths and tried to calm herself. If she freaked out now, everything she had done so far would be for naught. "Where am I?" she asked calmly, closing her eyes again and refusing to open them.

"Snake Mountain," came a disembodied voice from above. "My chambers." There was something familiar about that grating tone, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"How long have I been out?"

"Not long; about a day and a half."

_Hmmm. _That wasn't too bad. She could've been out for a week. The fates were being kind to her so far. "How badly injured am I?"

"I had to remove three of your ribs and most of your costal cartilage. I replaced it with a special metal alloy that will eventually attach itself to your other bones."

Jamie frowned. All those big medical words; she hated it when people spoke like that. If one needed to say "You broke your leg.", then he should just say that, instead of, "You fractured your upper left femur at approximately such-and-such degree………" It was so damn annoying. Why couldn't they use regular speech like everyone else? "Ok," she said, "you took something out of my body?"

"Yes."

"Did you put it back?"

"_Yes_."

"Ok. Just checking."

"If you're done interrogating me, perhaps you could open your eyes and get dressed."

"You undressed me?!" she yelped, taking the innocently placed phrase wrongly and clutching the sheets to her chest. Her green eyes snapped open and she glared intensely at the person she had been speaking with.

The swordsman.

He was bare-chested and his gauntlets and shoulder pads had been removed. Not for the first time since she had seen him, Jamie admired his physique. He certainly had it going for himself, now didn't he? He was well-built without being a muscle-head, a perfect state of body to be in. Shyly, she wondered what would happen if she were to "accidentally" brush up against him. Would he be inclined to kill her or make help her to make beautiful memories?

_No!_ she screamed in her mind. _Don't you dare attach yourself to him! _Jamie winced mentally at the sound of her own conscience. It sounded like her mother. Not that she was blind to the point that her conscience had. Jamie knew that growing close to the swordsman, in any way, shape, or form, would only produce problems for the both of them. And it wasn't like he was drooling after her anyways; it'd be a one-sided chase.

_Damn, _she thought sadly. It was unfair that he had to be so good-looking. _It's just a crush,_ she told herself. _Just a crush, just a crush, just a crush, nothing to worry about, it's just a crush and you _will _get over it. Eventually. Hopefully._ "I didn't undress you," Tri-Klops said calmly. "I had to cut away some of your clothing to operate."

"Well I guess you had no choice," Jamie mumbled, still embarrassed at the thought that he had seen her naked. At least he was being honest with her. Not that she'd be able to tell. For all she knew, he could've snuck a peek while she was down; all she had to rely on was his word and seeing as how she knew absolutely nil about him, his word didn't count for much.

"Get dressed," he commanded roughly, throwing one of his overlarge tunics at her. "Unless, of course, you'd rather go nude." The last part was said with a rather nasty tone, and Jamie had the distinct impression that if she didn't do as he said now, then she _would _be going out naked, her choice or not. Quickly, she jumped out of the bed and stood up and stretched. And realized that she was in a torn top and her undergarments.

"I thought you said that you didn't undress me!!" she yelped, diving back under the covers.

"I didn't!" said Tri-Klops, who had turned around in order to give her some privacy. "You still have _most _of your clothing on!"

"You took _most _of it _off_!"

"No I didn't!"

"Fiend!"

Tri-Klops sighed and ducked into the bathroom, bringing his armor with him so he could put it on. He closed and locked the door behind him and began to suit himself up while waiting for the young girl to finish up. He hadn't seen much. Certainly nothing to get so agitated about. Unfortunately, what he _had _seen had driven all thoughts of rationality from his mind and replaced them with thoughts of bedding her. Strange how animalistic a rational being's thoughts became after seeing the skin of female. Tri-Klops felt his blood begin to boil over at the mere thought of losing control over a silly little girl. _It's not as if she realizes what she's doing, _he tried to reason.

_Women, _his inner voice proclaimed angrily, _they're all the same. Damn harpies! _

"Not true," he whispered lowly.

_Stop defending her. You don't know what she's really here for, do you?_

"Get out of my head!"

_She's going to cause problems. _

_"_I said get out!!"

Tri-Klops jerked sharply as he realized he was having a conversation with himself. Not only was that childish, but it was also dangerous; intangible voices in one's own head was the first step towards insanity. _Just what I need, _he thought sullenly. His body was being driven crazy by the "half-naked" girl in his room while his mind was in turmoil over how to handle the situation. "Hurry up," he grumbled, keen to leave his traitorous thoughts and get on with whatever Skeletor had planned. _I can't believe I overslept………_

"I'm done," came the muffled reply from beyond the bathroom door. Tri-Klops sighed in near relief and quickly exited his small prison.

"Hurry," he snapped, careful not to look in the girl's direction.

"Grouch."

Tri-Klops ignored the derogatory, instead choosing to rush out into the hallway.

**WHAM! **

The gruff swordsman went toppling backwards, having met with the very solid chest of a cyborg, one Trapjaw by name. "Trike! Watch where yer goin'! I know that visor thing o' yers ain't just fer decoration!" He sounded amused, and Tri-Klops could hear uncontrolled bouts of laughter emitting from his room.

"I-I'm sorry!" gasped Jamie during a lull in her mirth; she was clutching her sides, leaning against the doorframe for support. Her white hair was tangled wildly and her green eyes still sparkled with the same enthusiasm that Tri-Klops had been met with. She was wearing a large frock, one of his, tied at the waist with her belt. The garment was so large on her that it hung down to the area just above her knees, and the sleeves draped past her hands. Tri-Klops pursed his lips as those thoughts that he despised so much returned with vengeance.

_Why is she affecting me like this? _He didn't know why, but for some reason, seeing her in a piece of his own clothing was strangely………alluring. The girl may not have been very pretty, but right now physical features were the last thing on Tri-Klops's mind as he observed the way the material flowed over her body, clinging in some places while bunching up in others. He was liking Jamie less and less every second.

"Hey Trike, ya with us?" Trapjaw's deep voice brought Tri-Klops back to the present, and he quickly got to his feet. Jamie was still sniggering, so he pushed ahead of the two idiots and led them to the throne room. All the way down the hall, Tri-Klops could hear Trapjaw and Jamie laughing at him. He was half-tempted to blast the both of them with one of his ocular beams and continue on his own, but Skeletor would be annoyed. So, like a trooper, he ignored them and trudged on.

_I can't _believe _I slept in, _he grumbled mentally, needing something to take his frustrations out on. It was completely against his nature to indulge in anything that produced laziness or bad habits. Thus, it angered him to know that he was slipping in his usual routine. He had the distinct feeling that Jamie was the cause of all this, whether she realized it or not. _The sooner she leaves,_ he thought,_ the sooner things return to normal; the sooner the better . _

"So," quipped Jamie, trying to strike up a conversation with the irritated swordsman, "your name's Trike?" Trapjaw slapped her hard on the back with his normal hand (and even that was enough to make her stumble) and chuckled amiably.

"Naw, that's what I call 'im ta piss 'im off." Tri-Klops clenched his teeth together, willing himself not to give in to their teasing.

"Oh? So what _is _his name? And what's yours?"

"He's Tri-Klops, an' I'm Trapjaw."

"Huh. Interesting names."

"No less than yers."

"Yeah, well, my parents couldn't think of anything better."

The conversation lasted the entire walk to Skeletor's throne room. In that space of time, Tri-Klops learned things that held no meaning in his life. He learned that Jamie had no last name to speak of, that she had a sweet tooth, she liked to make things float, she had a photographic memory, and she was terrified of anything with more than four legs.

"As _scintillating _as this is," interrupted Tri-Klops, seconds before the two disembarked on their individual sexual escapades (he doubted whether or not Jamie had any), "we're about to enter into Skeletor's presence. Shape up your act. You never know; he might actually be fooled."

"Yes _mother_," giggled Jamie, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. She was extra daring in Trapjaw's presence, somehow knowing that the cyborg was far more tolerable with these types of things. The swordsman ignored her as per usual (or tried to), and strode through the enormous double doors that separated the throne room from the rest of Snake Mountain. The minute he heard the dreaded crackling noise, he knew he should've stayed in bed.

**SHOOOOM! **

A purple ball of magic shot forth from Skeletor's Havoc Staff and struck Tri-Klops square in the chest. He had about three seconds to think _Why me? _before he was thrown into the wall, some four hundred feet behind him.

**CRACK! **

His back was the first part of his body to come into contact with the stony obtrusion and it knocked the wind out of his lungs, making his head spin. "How nice of you to join us, Tri-Klops," said Skeletor sarcastically. He was standing at the top of his throne, Havoc staff extended outwards, the end of it and his eyes glowing alike. "Get up," he snapped. Tri-Klops obeyed, wobbling unsteadily.

**CRUNCH!**

The staff glowed and sputtered before another blast hit him, slamming his head back against the hard stone and breaking his visor; the machinery began to whir and spark in a way that he knew it shouldn't. A few seconds later, a large, clawed hand grabbed his face and threw him to the side and he skidded for a few feet before finally coming to a stop.

**THUMP!**

He landed in a heap near one of the boiling pools of lava; the heat coming from it penetrated an unprotected part of his shoulder and quickly blistered the skin. "Aaaah!" he cried out, the pain shocking him out of his befuddled daze. Tri-Klops stood up and tried to dodge away, but Skeletor was already right in front of him, his fist already swinging down towards his face. Tri-Klops instinctively raised his arms to fend off the blow which turned out to be a big mistake.

Skeletor merely altered the trajectory of his fist at the last moment and planted it in the scientist's gut. Tri-Klops hit the floor, one hand holding his stomach while the other supported his battered body. Skeletor kneeled down next to Tri-Klops and grasped him by the chin, yanking his head up. "Be. On. Time," hissed the sorcerer, getting up and stalking back to his throne. Once seated, Skeletor spared Tri-Klops one last glance, saying, "Get up!" and Tri-Klops obeyed.

"Next time," Skeletor growled, "I won't be in a merciful mood."

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter annoys me for some reason. I think I'm bringing Jamie in a little too hard.


	12. Bargains

Edited for your enjoyment.

**Eva91 **- I'm glad that this story is living up to your very high expectations! You have to be my number one fan! I'm so excited about this story, and it encourages me to read your reviews. You have no idea how much you mean to me. I could smother you in hugs and kisses, but I guess I'll have to settle for writing that Evil-lyn/Skeletor one-shot that we've been mentioning. And yes, there will be more "interactions" as you have so discreetly dubbed them.

**HitokiriKurisuta **- Hi again! Thanks for the review! You know, Xiaolin Showdown was one anime that I've never seen? I don't even have a clue about what it's about. I'd love to beta for you (I already beta for another young author on but I'm afraid I don't know much about the characters. Now, if you simply need someone to go through and check for spelling and grammar errors, then I'm all for it. I'm known as the Walking Spellcheck at my school. Let me know if the position is still open, alright? Good luck with your writing!

**Munashii Mitsukai **- Hi! Welcome on board! Glad that you like the story so far. Yeah, I can't stand it when people pair him up with Evil-lyn; it's just not right. It's one of those things that you just don't do. It's the equivalent of pairing Teela up with Buzz Off. Totally incompatible. Well, I hope you like this chapter!

**The Dark Temptress **- Hi again! I'm glad that you love the way I portray the characters; that's always been a pet peeve of mine. If you want to be updated whenever I throw a new chapter up, you can either add this story to your favorite story list or my name to your favorite authors list and you'll be sent an e-mail whenever I put up a new chapter.

**Disclaimer:** It's been a looooooong time since I've written one of these. I don't own any of the characters originally associated with _He-man and the Masters of the Universe_. I do attain my individual rights to Reaper/Jamie and those things not recognizable to _He-man_.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

**Bargains**

* * *

Jamie glared at Skeletor with narrowed eyes as he marched back to his throne, his dreaded Havoc staff burying itself into the ground with step he took. His extravagant cape billowed out behind him, creating the ever popular Dark Warlord look. She was still sore at him for knocking her out and throwing her in the dungeons, but she also didn't think it fair that Tri-Klops was the only one to be punished, when she and Trapjaw (although he really didn't count, as he was the one who had been ordered to fetch the both of them) had been just as guilty. Of course, she wasn't going to say anything, just in case Skeletor was still in the mood to kick some more heads around.

Pinning the cyborg down with a mournful stare, Jamie jerked her head in the direction of an extremely disoriented Tri-Klops, the look in her eyes questioning what should be done with him. Trapjaw shrugged and shook his head, more than likely meaning that the swordsman should be left alone for the moment, lest they anger Skeletor again. Jamie could deal with that arrangement, so she shut up, though later on she did feel a little bit guilty over not helping Tri-Klops.

"Now that we're all present," growled the evil warlock, "we can get down to business." Arrogant smirks overpowered the faces of a couple of the usually more stoic minions, alerting Jamie. Obviously, whatever Skeletor had planned was going to make someone's life extremely miserable.

"Jamie, my dear," he said smoothly, "I have considered your………unique situation."

Not surprisingly, everyone (save Evil-lyn) looked shocked by this declaration. It was so out of character for Skeletor to ever consider anything that had nothing to do with the complete and utter destruction of Eternos and/or Castle Grayskull. Trapjaw was beginning to think that there was some sort of epidemic going around. Nervously, the cyborg looked up at the witch, as if there was something within her stature that could reveal what she was thinking. All he got for his efforts was a poisonous smile and a coy wink.

Nope, Evil-lyn was fine.

Speaking of the witch, she was looking particularly haughty; perhaps Skeletor had elevated her to a higher position within the ranks? Maybe he had given her something, like that amulet she had been pining over for almost two months now. _Wonder what's got 'er in such a good mood,_ he thought to himself. Suddenly, at Skeletor's command, Evil-lyn stepped forward created a large sphere with her staff.

The entire room was bathed in an eerie purplish glow, turning Jamie's hair livid neon and Skeletor's blue skin a shade lighter than normal. Once everyone's eyes were adjusted to the unusual lighting, the space inside the sphere began to fill with liquid darkness. The foundation of an enormous structure began to form, molding itself from the shadows and solidifying as it grew larger and larger. Different shapes formulated and broke apart within seconds, making Jamie's eyes water. Soon, everyone could clearly distinguish the massive form of Castle Grayskull.

"What is it?" asked a wide-eyed Jamie, who had clearly never seen such a building before.

"A source of unimaginable power," whispered Skeletor lustily. "Power that I want."

Jamie nodded mutely, entranced by the magic and enraptured by the image it produced. She had of course drabbled in this type of magic before, but this level of expertise had alluded her for so long that she had just given up; seeing someone else, besides her know-it-all brother, invoke it was beyond fascinating.

"I'll help destroy your wayward brother if you assist me in my conquest of Castle Grayskull," said Skeletor. As he spoke, the image within the sphere began to shift and change again. People appeared, some of them recognizable from the battle Jamie had been in and some of them she had never seen before. These figures were joined by another group of individuals, the warriors of Snake Mountain, and the two sides began to wage a small war with each other, using all fierceness and strength.

When Jamie caught sight of the handsome blonde that had thwarted Skeletor's plans (whatever they had been), she had to ask who he was. Skeletor just grumbled and muttered something about an "insufferable bastard". Trapjaw answered with a bit more gusto, pounding his fist into the wall. The other minions exhibited similar reactions, such as cracking their knuckles or spitting on the ground. Obviously, the blonde man was not welcome here. Evil-lyn smirked as the men nursed their bruised egos, positive that they'd be back to normal by the end of the day.

"That's He-man," she said passionately, as if reciting her part in a tragic drama. "Defender of Grayskull and hero of Eternia. He always manages to foil us, no matter how much thought we put into our plan of action." Skeletor growled and slumped down in his seat, loathe to agree, despite the validity of the statement.

Jamie shrugged neutrally, turning back to the scene magically placed before her. "What would you have me do?"

"We'll discuss that when the time comes," mumbled a disgusted Skeletor.

The scene changed again, Castle Grayskull fading into black, only to be replaced by a large city. Jamie had to shield her eyes from the intensity of the light that illuminated from the metropolis. It seemed to her that there were millions of people standing in the streets, on the roofs of houses, and on the walls of the fortification, all shining powerful lights directly into her eyes. "What is this place," she asked, squinting, "and why is it blinding me?"

"Eternos," supplied Tri-Klops; Jamie whipped around to see the scientist leaning against the wall, one of his arms clutching his abdomen. His visor was still sparking and his legs quivered beneath him as they threatened to give out completely and send him back to the floor. The blister on his shoulder looked painful, but nothing that wouldn't heal within a few days. The rest of the injuries he had sustained looked a tad more serious and would require attention soon, if not immediately. For a reason unknown to herself, she shot the man a delighted smile, one which he didn't return.

"Eternos is where the Defenders reside," he continued, his voice cracking a little bit on the longer words. "King Randor rules over the entire city." Jamie filed that information away with everything else she had learned thus far, confident that she'd need it later.

"Why is so bright?" she winced again, her arm shadowing her eyes so she wouldn't be blinded.

Tri-Klops coughed some (a bit of blood leaked out the side of his mouth) before answering. "The roofs of the buildings are a form of solar panels," he wheezed, "but instead of converting the light into energy, it's stored for other uses, such as reserve power, defense, and agricultural growth."

"Fascinating," murmured Jamie, even though she didn't understand how collected light could be stored. "So what's the deal with this place?" Skeletor butted back in before Tri-Klops could answer, his ego demanding that he take some control of the situation.

"We will need to destroy their base of command, so as to cripple them," he said. "Numerous communications from other regions are received from those towers." He pointed to a couple of buildings shaped like small cones, so she could see what they looked like and where they were located.

"That's how they always manage to show up out of nowhere and beat us," the dark lord continued, tilting his staff towards the city. "If we take out their communications, we'll be able to ravage some of the smaller villages without interference."

Jamie shrugged again. "Whatever it takes," she said. Just as long as Ailil was taken down, nothing else mattered; she'd do anything to avenge her parents. Besides, if memory served her correctly, that snot-nosed brat (What had her name been? Teela?) still owed her a fight, especially since Jamie had knocked her out.

"We are in an agreement then?" asked Skeletor silkily.

"Sure, sure," said Jamie happily, "you help me get rid of my brother and I'll help dispose of the blonde lummox and his troop of acrobats. Deal?" Jamie walked to the foot of Skeletor's throne and stuck her hand out; Skeletor met her at the halfway point and shook her hand, his grip powerful and firm.

"Welcome to Snake Mountain, Jamie. I hope you find your stay here………prosperous."

* * *

_A couple hours later_………

"Un-frickin'-believable," mumbled Jamie as she seethed in a darkened corner of Tri-Klops' lab. "Totally _unforgivable_."

"It's not _that _terrible," said Evil-lyn, who was perched on the edge of a workbench preening her nails, much to Tri-Klops' mortification (he had left the room in order to gain control of his temper, which was beginning to boil over at having not one, but _two_ women in his workshop). Jamie whirled on the witch, her green eyes blazing with an indescribable emotion.

"_Just two men? _I don't think Skeletor realizes how powerful my brother truly is."

Evil-lyn sighed and massaged her temple, determined to give the child a break, seeing as how she wasn't aware of how things functioned around Snake Mountain. Besides, she'd made a promise that she wouldn't kill the girl before Skeletor had finished with her. "Tri-Klops and Trapjaw are extremely skilled in what they do," she said. "They work well as a team, and they _always _get the job done, no matter what the cost is. I'm sure they're _more _than enough for your brother."

"Says _you_," grumbled Jamie. Evil-lyn rolled her eyes at the girl's shamelessness, hoping that this whole thing would be done and over with as quickly as possible. She didn't understand why the child just couldn't be grateful for what she was given; she should've been appreciative that Skeletor had decided to help her out in the first place, especially when he didn't have to. He could've just blasted her and been done with it, but he had decided to spare her. _Why though,_ Evil-lyn thought, _I'll never know._

"I just don't understand why he can't come himself," moped Jamie, who wasn't willing to let the subject die. Jumping off the edge of the table, Evil-lyn fairly stomped over to where Skeletor's unexpected guest, and even more unexpected partner, stood and tucked her hands on her hips in her usual scolding fashion. Jamie, for her part, looked up into Evil-lyn's face innocently. The absolute nerve of it all was staggering.

"First off," snapped the sorceress, "Skeletor has more important things to do then follow a little girl like you around." Personally, though she'd never agree with Jamie, Evil-lyn didn't understand why he _didn't _go; after all, it was _his _brilliant theory that the girl was immortal. One would think that he'd want to oversee the mission personally, to investigate his premises, if nothing else. Nevertheless, the majority of his plans went wrong somehow, regardless of his presence; Evil-lyn would've absolutely _died_ if he had been around to hear that little thought.

"Second of all," she continued, almost wagging her finger, "you don't call the shots; Skeletor does." One thing that annoyed Evil-lyn more than anything (besides incompetent coworkers) were people who formed alliances with Skeletor and still expected to be in charge. That was sheer stupidity on their part. Anyone with half a brain could see what a megalomaniac the man was; it made perfect sense to assume that he'd want to be the one controlling things. Jamie, just like all the others, had waltzed right in and thought everything was going to happen on her terms and look what had happened to her: she had ended up in a dungeon.

"And third of all," the witch said, drawing in a deep breath, "Skeletor is the Lord of Snake Mountain; he can do what he wants." Evil-lyn was a little irked to see that Jamie was still pouting, furious that her quest (dire in her eyes) had been devalued.

"Why won't he come?" she whined. "He said that _he'd _help me; not anyone else, _him_." Evil-lyn groaned at the girl's reasoning, wondering why she had been charged with taking care of the brat.

After so many years in Skeletor's service, she had become accustomed to his erratic decisions. One minute he'd be insisting on doing something himself, the next he'd be blasting people for not getting it done first. He flipped back and forth so much that it was a wonder that he didn't fall flat on his skull-face sometimes. Another potentially embarrassing thought if Skeletor himself had ever gotten a hold of it. Even so, Evil-lyn knew that Jamie would never understand the complexity of Skeletor's psyche, no matter how well it was elucidated to her. Some people were just like that.

"I don't know how to explain him to you," she went on, "but Skeletor knows what he's doing. Think of it this way: we of Snake Mountain are extensions of Skeletor. When he sends one of us to do something in his place, it's as good as if he were doing it himself. Understand?"

"I suppose so," admitted the young traveler. "He's the most powerful out of all of you guys, right?" Even though her ego put forth a valiant effort to deny that fact, Evil-lyn agreed with the child.

"That's why he has to stay here," she said smugly, confident that the matter had been resolved. "If the Defenders attack while you, Tri-Klops, and Trapjaw are gone, he'll be more than enough to handle them."

"I guess that makes sense."

"I'm glad we've managed to come to an understanding."

"Still………"

Evil-lyn sighed a long-suffering sigh as she turned around, the urge to bash her head into a wall very inviting. "He isn't going to accompany you, so get over it." Perhaps the sorceress wasn't aware of how she sounded. Maybe it came across as jealousy, or maybe Jamie had just deciphered it to be just that. Regardless of the true motives, Jamie somehow managed to detect a slight undercurrent of possessiveness in Evil-lyn's voice, her interpretation of its meaning bringing a wicked gleam into her bright green eyes.

"You and him have something going on?" she asked innocently, unaware of the mischievous smile flitting about her pale lips.

"What do you mean?" asked Evil-lyn, surprised by the sudden change in subject.

"You and Skeletor," Jamie repeated. "Do you and him have something going on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Evil-lyn calmly, nearly flushing at the girl's perceptiveness. Although most everyone knew about Skeletor and her sharing beds sometimes, Evil-lyn didn't feel the need to broadcast the fact. It was his and her personal business, not anyone else's, but Jamie was too persistent and wouldn't stop questioning her. Evil-lyn was forced to fend off an odd assortment of wild accusations before Jamie hit home base.

"You two lovers or something?" she said, blushing fiercely as the words left her mouth. _Damn her and her persistence! _Evil-lyn thought as she rapidly made up a story to satiate the girl's questioning glances. Though it was the exact truth, she didn't want to admit it to this girl who, quite obviously, hadn't been in any sort of intimate relationship.

"What happens between Skeletor and myself," Evil-lyn said, unable to control the light flush that swept across her skin, "is entirely up to us, and not meant for little girls to know."

"So you _are _lovers?" Jamie asked quizzically, tilting her head to one side and Evil-lyn groaned. Overall, it had been a pretty lame excuse; given more time, she probably would've been able to come up with something a bit more original and not so………_obvious_.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" squawked Evil-lyn as Jamie asked the next logical question after coming to terms with the truth of the matter. Problem was that the assumption was so far off the mark that it was almost funny. Except it wasn't. "I most certainly am not!" fumed the indignant witch. She absolutely refused to admit that whatever feelings she had for Skeletor were love. It just wasn't possible. "I don't do love." Jamie smiled frantically, perhaps hoping that it would calm Evil-lyn down; it did no such thing. If anything, her friendly demeanor gave the witch a reason to be even more spiteful.

"Besides, it's none of your business!" Evil-lyn spat venomously, her eyes beginning to glow as per usual whenever she was angry.

"Okay, okay!" said Jamie quickly. "If that's what you say, then I believe you!"

Evil-lyn bit her lip to prevent herself from lashing out at Jamie, seeing that it would be fruitless to remain angry at her. "I won't discuss the details of our………relationship," she relented, "but I will say this: he's mine."

Jamie waved her hands in an "I surrender" gesture, a look of compliant giddiness on her face. "Don't worry about that," she giggled (_How annoying,_ Evil-lyn thought), "I'm not looking for a relationship. Besides, faceless guys hold no appeal to me."

"Just keep that in mind."

"I'll bet the sex is awesome, though."

"It is, but that's not for you to dwell on."

Jamie shrugged (as she seemed to do a lot) and continued on with her pouting, even though it was much more contained than it had been. _Why do I always get stuck with the incomprehensible brats? _Evil-lyn asked herself, though she was glad that the initial bitching was over. She also had to admit that it was………nice to have another female around; it wasn't by choice that she lived in a mountain inhabited by veritable testosterone factories and it was a miracle that she hadn't turned into one of them herself. Perhaps Jamie would be her salvation from insanity. _We shall see,_ thought Evil-lyn as she strode of Tri-Klops's lab.

_We shall see_………

* * *

**A/N: **Whereas at first I considered this chapter to be pointless, I now love it; Jamie is slowly evolving from an almost-Mary-Sue to an acceptable OC. I like it.


	13. The Journey Begins

**The Dark Temptress **- Yes, I'm especially proud of that line; kept me entertained for about twenty minutes! Power to the lazy people! I won't check my e-mail for two weeks and when I get on I have about a hundred things and it's like "Oh, looky there!"

**Eva91 **- I'm so glad you liked the last chapter! May you never be disappointed in your reading adventures! As to your question: yes, Ailil will definitely interact with a couple inhabitants of Snake Mountain, although I can't say who :P I just hope that I do the part justice. Thanks for your undying support and encouragement!

**HitokiriKurisuta **- Glad that you liked the chapter! I'll defiantly try to get around to your fic; I'm glad you managed to find some help for it!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own He-man: Masters of the Universe (2002) or anything associated with it. I obtain my rights to original characters.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

**The Journey Begins**

* * *

Over the next few days, which passed by far quicker than normal, Jamie learned much about the inhabitants of Snake Mountain. She learned that Skeletor hated waking up too early, unless it had something to do with the destruction of Eternia, He-man, or the capture of Castle Grayskull (_Go figure, _she thought). She learned that Trapjaw hated it when someone snuck up on him and usually retaliated to the unexpected intrusion by swinging his mechanical arm around in a circle.

She learned that Evil-lyn could be quite accommodating………when it suited her needs. She learned that Two-Bad was totally unable to agree with himself and often wound up in a double choke-hold type of situation. She learned that Merman was one of the best swimmers in all of the Dark Hemisphere and that he could dive down to depths near four hundred feet. She learned that Tri-Klops absolutely couldn't stand it when people hung over his shoulder, and that he had a tendency to mutter to himself from time to time.

Jamie, of course, found it extremely fascinating and took her sweet time in deciphering the complex characteristics of each person she came across. There were some, like Two-Bad and Beastman, who were painfully easy to scrutinize, while others, like Evil-lyn, Skeletor, and Tri-Klops were harder to crack than a Draconian code. It annoyed the young warrior to some degree, but she was careful to hide her irritation from others; she didn't want them to know that she was observing them as she was. Chances were that they already knew and were watching her back just as closely anyways.

Jamie also learned a lot about how Snake Mountain was run from within. Trapjaw and Tri-Klops were responsible for any machinery; if something broke down, then they were expected to repair it. Beastman, Clawful, and Whiplash (she had learned their names a couple days prior) collected taxes from the local villages that were scattered all throughout the Dark Hemisphere; these taxes were usually a share of the crops harvested during the season.

Jamie was very intrigued by the fact that these small towns actually considered Skeletor to be their ruler and were in fact extremely loyal to him. One would've thought that he'd be an evil tyrant and though Evil-lyn assured her that Skeletor was in no way "good", she also explained that he was a just and capable ruler. The villages gave him their loyalty because he had earned it, not through suppressing them and forcing them to give in to outrageous demands. There was system to abide by, one which allowed both the frontiers and Snake Mountain to thrive. Though she couldn't understand all the political jibber-jabber, Jamie found it thoroughly exciting.

But one of the most important things that she learned over the course of her three and a half week stay at Snake Mountain was that personal space was extremely valued.

"Get away from me."

"I'm not doing anything."

"I don't care; go away."

"But I'm just sitting here!"

"You're crowding me!"

"Am not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Please! I'm, like, twenty-five feet away!"

Perhaps a little _too_ valued. Jamie had traveled down to the dungeons with one sole purpose in mind: pumping Stinkor for information on the Defenders. Unfortunately, the evil Pelleezean had a personal space radar that went off whenever someone set foot into the ridiculous boundaries of thirty or so feet. Jamie thought that might've been an instinctive reflex to hauling around that tankard on his back; the gaseous fumes that normally heralded the coming of Stinkor could be filtered through he strange device, and released by a tiny button located on the belt. Thankfully, Stinkor had long since learned how to control his nauseating gases, making the furry villain a lot more approachable.

"Go away!"

Or not.

_This is much more difficult than I had expected, _Jamie thought sullenly, wishing that men weren't so damn stupid. She really, really wanted to find out a bit more about the Defenders, especially since she would have to fight them sooner or later (by way of her agreement with Skeletor). There was so much she didn't know, so much she needed to learn, and so little time to get it all accomplished; in two days, Trapjaw, Tri-Klops, and herself would begin their journey into the Northern Polar Ice Cap, a trek which would take them at least four weeks, if not longer.

"Will you stop being so ridiculous?" Jamie asked, crossing her arms. Stinkor threw his own arms over his head and gave a cry of frustration.

"Why are you here?!" he wailed. "What do you want with me?!" He must've been extremely nervous that she was going to beat him or something, for his eyes kept darting back and forth between her and some nasty looking torture devices displayed on a workbench. Jamie would've laughed if she had thought it might calm Stinkor down; she had no wish no harm anyone, especially those who were helping her.

"I just want some information, nothing intense," she said softly. Bulbous yellow eyes narrowed in her direction, weighing the decisions heavily in his mind.

"What kind of information are we talking about here?" he asked, turning to his grisly collection of weaponry, though still having the good sense to look over his shoulder every few seconds. Jamie smiled, knowing that in the end she'd have her way of things.

"I want you to tell me about the Defenders," she said. "Tell me everything you know about them. Tell me their abilities, their strengths, and their battle habits. Everything that you know, I want to know." Her smile grew wider as Stinkor stiffened.

He turned around, some odd, spiky device in his paw which didn't really look all that inviting. The look on his face suggested that this was a subject that he enjoyed talking about. His black and white fur was actually bristling in excitement. "Tell me about the guy that looks like a giant bug," she prompted eagerly, more than ready to begin her education.

"The 'giant bug' is Buzz Off," Stinkor began, sparing a snort for her ignorance and turning back to his devices. "He's a general in the Andreenid army, and a favorite of their Queen. His weapon of choice varies between an axe, as you have undoubtedly witnessed, and a stave. He relies heavily on his speed and his ability to fly; his skill level when it comes to close-range physical combat is less than adequate though. All you have to do to take him down is to -"

"Screw up his wings and then introduce your fist to his stomach," interrupted Jamie, remembering the fight she had witnessed between Buzz Off and Tri-Klops. Stinkor chuckled as he grabbed a rag and began to clean the bloody tools.

"More or less," he said.

"What about the green dude?"

"That's Moss Man. Not much is known about him, except that he seems to be able to manipulate nature to suit his needs."

"Really?" asked Jamie, a flame of interest sparking up in her eyes. "That's pretty interesting; I'd love to bump fists with this guy someday."

"Yeah?" snorted Stinkor disbelievingly. "You won't be singing the same tune when you're being attacked by vines that are two feet thick and thirty feet long."

"Oh," said Jamie, subdued by that tidbit. "Well, how do I defeat him?"

"Well, you don't really need to worry about him," said Stinkor, "'cause he rarely shows up. If you really want to know, though," he added quickly, seeing Jamie's girlish pout, "he despises fire." Jamie seemed to think on this for a while, like she was carefully storing the information in a special file.

"What about the shape shifter?"

"Man-E-Faces. He has three forms that he favors during battle: robot, monster, and man. He has a weapon that changes with his face; monster equals club, robot equals laser gun, and man equals sword or something of the like. He's also been known to impersonate some of the less appreciated of Skeletor's lackeys and spy on us, so be careful. If you take out his vision, you should be able to get him on the ground pretty quickly."

"Okay, there was also this really strange man who kept making dust storms. He was rainbow-colored."

"That was Syclone. He comes from Anwat Gar and has the ability to create winds, cyclones, hurricanes, and stuff like that. Just knock him out and stay out of range of his kick, 'cause it's a killer."

"There was this really, really fat guy with a flat helmet on his head."

"Ram Man. He's the brute force of the bunch. He uses that helmet to smash things to pieces, and his right hook isn't half-bad either. He can take a lot of damage, but he's particularly susceptible to magic."

"There were three men in the dungeons with me. One looked like he could fly, one had a ton of armor, and the other had weird goggles."

"Stratos, Man-at-Arms, and Mekanek. Yes, Stratos can fly; take out his wings and you should have no trouble with him. Man-at-Arms is a veritable walking fortress. He's got numerous shields, weapons, and tricks concealed all over his armor, so there's really no telling the best way to take him down. I've found that concussive blasts work quite well, though."

Jamie grinned a bit at that one, earning herself an approving glance from Stinkor. "Mekanek's power is really stupid," he drawled out. "His neck stretches out. That's it. That and he carries a really big sword. Sometimes a club. Just take out his neck, cause he sucks at fighting. It'd be a mercy killing, really."

Jamie stretched, raising her arms over her head, finally getting ready to dive in for the meat of the problem. "There was this reaaaaallllly annoying chick in the cell with me. I think her name was Teela?"

"Yeah, that would be Man-at-Arms's daughter. She's about sixteen or seventeen, but she's really good with that snake staff of hers. She'll knock you flat if you're not careful. Thing about her is that she's really easy to anger, and when she's mad she makes mistakes. Just piss her off and she'll take care of herself." Stinkor fell silent after that, content to carry on with his work for a while. Jamie sat on her stool for a bit longer, contemplating everything that she had been told. Mekanek was no longer a current threat, due to the leg injury he seemed to have been sustained for an indefinite amount of time. Ram Man, Stratos, and Buzz Off were also out of action due to their injuries. Depending on how long her mission took, she might not have to worry about those four at all.

That was the best case scenario.

Getting up and preparing to walk out of the room, Jamie realized that there was one person that she had yet to inquire about, which made her feel pretty dumb, considering that he was obviously the greatest challenge. "Who's He-man?" she asked, remembering the name from one of Skeletor's rants. There was a long pause in Stinkor's work, in which he sighed and shook his head.

"He's the bane of Skeletor's existence," he said eventually. "No one knows where he came from, or why. All we know is that he always, _always_ shows up at any given battle, and he usually beats the shit out of us." Jamie sat back down and stared at the ground.

Okay. So it hadn't been intelligent to mention that………He-man, or whatever. Her brother had always told her that mentioning something that led someone to recall an embarrassing moment or moments in their past was one of the rudest things you could do. "I'm sorry," she said, not quite sure why she had felt the need to apologize.

"Don't be," quipped Stinkor. "It's our own fault we get our asses kicked all the time. We've been dealing with him for a little less than a year, and we _still_ haven't found a way to defeat him yet."

"Doesn't he have any weaknesses?"

"Not that we know of. We've been able to detain him several times, but he always manages to get away somehow. It's like something higher up is protecting him, making sure that nothing happens to him."

"That sucks," Jamie agreed, sympathizing. She knew what it was like to feel frustration over defeating a foe. She was feeling the very same thing presently, directed towards her brother.Stinkor shrugged again, not really wanting to get into the grim details of the matter; he had told her what she had needed to know, nothing more.

"Just stay out of his way unless you really think you can take him," he cautioned her. "We're talking about more than a seventy percent chance, so unless you're _absolutely_ sure, don't try it."

Jamie nodded, wondering if she even had the ghost of a chance to begin with. Probably not, all things considered. She was, after all, nothing more than a newcomer. Compared to the others, who were intimately familiar with this He-man's methods, she was pretty much useless. If they, seasoned warriors with experience, couldn't defeat him, then what could she do? "Well," she eventually said, after a bit of private thinking, "I suppose I'll go now; there's a lot to process."

Stinkor waved a paw in her direction, not bothering to get up; not that she was expecting it. Jamie saw herself out of the room, pausing at the foot of a massive stairwell to reflect upon everything that she had just been told. Knowing what she was up against, was she really up to the job? Could she really help Skeletor fight all those people, some of which were incredibly strong?

Jamie was worried, worried that she might not be able to uphold her end of a very precarious bargain. If Skeletor found out that she was untrustworthy, what would he do to her _You need to stop making problems,_ Jamie told herself sharply. _He agreed to the bargain in the first place, which obviously means that he sees _something_ in you. _She considered this for a moment before smiling to herself. Maybe she did have a chance after all, if Skeletor thought that she had potential. It was a comforting thought.

Heartened at this revelation, Jamie ran up the stairs that led from the dungeon, taking them two at a time. So glad was she in her childlike happiness that she failed to notice Tri-Klops stepping out of his laboratory.

**CRUNCH! **

Jamie went sprawling on her back, as Tri-Klops reeled from the forceful impact. The crunching noise would've been Jamie's still healing ribs. "Arrgghh!" she moaned through gritted teeth. Dammit, but that had hurt! She instinctively curled up in a ball, clutching her injured ribs as if to protect them from further harm. The pain was too great, however, and she quickly lapsed into a blissful state of unconsciousness, neither noticing nor caring when Tri-Klops lifted her into his arms and carried her back into his lab. Closing the door behind them, he placed Jamie on one of his cleaner tables and pulled up the shirt she was wearing.

As he swiftly cut away at the old bandages encircling her torso, Tri-Klops berated himself for not checking on her wounds sooner. He should've known better. He tossed the bloody material aside and quickly reached for some clean gauze. The ugly, black stitches running up the girl's side contrasted starkly against her white skin, but Tri-Klops was pleased to see that the incisions he had made a week earlier were healing up very nicely. She'd have a scar for the rest of her life, but it was a small price to pay.

Large black and blue bruises spotted her white skin, originating from around her stitching. Some of them were in their last stage of healing, and were rimmed in yellow, green, and purple. Tri-Klops wet a cloth and dabbed at the wound, catching some blood that had began to drip from a new opening. She must've torn one of her stitches loose in her fall. She would have to be more careful in the future. Feeling grateful that Jamie was unconscious and therefore oblivious to the pain, Tri-Klops began to turn his mind towards the journey that was to soon take place. There were many preparations to be made, least of all which was to formulate a decent plan of action for dealing with Jamie's brother. It would be unwise to show up unprepared.

Another important detail was the journey itself. What path were they going to take? How were they going to avoid being seen by any enemies? What would they do if they came across the Defenders? _Stop stressing,_ Tri-Klops berated himself, _you're no good to anyone if you worry about the details._ An unusual piece of information for Tri-Klops to give himself, seeing as how it was his job to stress over the details. However, like every other villain out there, he knew that there was a time and place for stressing; now wasn't it.

"Aah!" protested Tri-Klops as one of Jamie's wounds began to spurt blood. Quickly grabbing the nearest piece of cloth, he pressed down on the wound, causing Jamie to stir. Mentally cursing Whiplash for damaging the girl, Tri-Klops dabbed at the spot with a special salve that formed a protective coating over the wound and stopped bleeding. It wasn't looking like Jamie would be healed enough to make the journey without complications.

_Maybe Evil-lyn can heal it,_ he thought, bringing out a fresh roll of gauze. As much as he despised asking favors from his teammates, Tri-Klops knew that the only way that Jamie would be able to travel tomorrow was to have her wounds magically healed. Fortunately, Tri-Klops's wounds wouldn't have to be treated in the same manner; his shoulder burn had already calloused over and would soon be nothing more than shiny patch of skin. His visor too, had suffered under Skeletor's wrath, though he had been able to fix it in the same day.

Jamie moaned a little as the clean bandages touched her tender skin and tried to twist away, but Tri-Klops held her to his chest. He wrapped the gauze around her torso several times, making sure that the bandaging was tight enough to allow the ribs to heal, but not so tight that it constricted Jamie's movement. _Why me?_ he asked himself as Jamie butted his shoulder with her forehead. _Why do I have to put up with her?_ It wasn't as if he was the only one able to cope with children. In fact, he was willing to bet that he was most _ill-equipped_. Jamie certainly seemed to enjoy hanging around Trapjaw; the idiot cyborg had milked the time for all it was worth, telling the girl jokes and some of the dirtier secrets of his comrades. Whatever amount of time she spent around Trapjaw, however, was not enough to pull her away from Tri-Klops, whom she followed around like a dog after its master.

_A babysitter,_ he thought,_ that's what I've become._

The resulting image disturbed Tri-Klops and he quickly cast it out of his mind. By nature, he had a great amount of patience, but when it came to dealing with children he was as cold as a stone. It was amazing that he was able to stay in the same room as the girl and not feel the urge to strangle her. She had said some pretty stupid things since coming to Snake Mountain, and it annoyed him to no end. Stupidity was one thing he could not, _would not_, tolerate. He didn't tolerate it any more than he tolerated unwanted emotions and this girl certainly was causing a lot of those. For that, he despised her, yet at the same time he had accepted the fact that she was pleasing to look at (though not classically beautiful) and his body was reacting accordingly. At least he knew that everything was in working order.

"Wha_--_?" he asked no one, jerking back from the tickling sensation that was suddenly coming from his chest. Looking down, Tri-Klops was shocked to see Jamie nuzzling his chest, her face a mask of tranquility and peace, as if she hadn't a care In the world. She must've still been unconscious then, and not aware of what she was doing. Gently grabbing a hold of her chin and pulling her face away from his chest, Tri-Klops quickly ducked into his room before they were seen. _Why am I being so cautious? _he asked himself angrily. _I have nothing to hide._ "Nyah!" cried Jamie suddenly, kicking out with her left foot. She was dreaming now; Tri-Klops could see her eyes moving beneath her eyelids.

Bending over to lay her on his bed, Tri-Klops was caught off balance when the girl that he was carrying suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down with her. _This,_ he said to himself, _isn't good._ He had landed sort of awkwardly; in order not to crush Jamie, Tri-Klops had quickly thrown out his arms, managing to catch himself a few inches above Jamie's face. _Dammit,_ he thought as he felt her warm breath tickling his shoulder. He groaned slightly as Jamie licked her lips, not knowing how sensuous it looked, even in sleep and meant in a totally innocent gesture. Tri-Klops quietly got up from the bed and left the room, turning back to look at her one last time before closing the door.

_I must be going soft._

* * *

"You want me to do what?" asked Evil-lyn unbelievingly.

"Just this once," said Tri-Klops, who did _not _look like he was in the mood for bartering.

"Do you realize what you're asking?" snapped the witch, stretching out her long legs. "I'm not saying that it's a difficult spell, because it isn't; it's just that the girl might not be able to handle it."

"I'm not following," snapped Tri-Klops, who was still irked about earlier. "Are you saying that the process could kill her?"

"Yes!" said Evil-lyn exasperatedly. "It's extremely painful, and if you give in to it, it'll destroy you!"

"That girl has had three of her ribs removed and replaced with steel ones. I seriously doubt that this'll defeat her."

"If you think she can stand it, then by all means, bring her to me!"

Tri-Klops all but growled at Evil-lyn. "Just come do it now! She's sleeping in my room and you can just_ - _"

"In _your _room?" interjected Evil-lyn, a coy smile playing about her lips. "You don't say! Whatever is she doing in _your_ room?"

"Will you shut up?" he hissed, all pretense of politeness gone from his voice. Evil-lyn laughed maddeningly, thoroughly enjoying getting under the scientist's skin.

"Don't be so uptight, Tri-Klops," she said, still chuckling to herself. "I know that you're far too _honorable _to try anything of the sort." She threw the word "honorable" at him like it was some kind of insult; it didn't matter, just as long as she agreed to help.

"Will you do it?" asked Tri-Klops for what seemed like the millionth time. Evil-lyn cocked her head to one side and began examining her nails, a false look of deep contemplation furrowing her brow.

"I suppose," she ventured after a while, "that it wouldn't hurt. After all, the poor child needs her strength, doesn't she?" The blatant contempt concealed the small amount of respect that Evil-lyn had for the girl; not that she would've ever told anyone that.

"Should I come in now?" she asked tiredly, still preening.

"Yes," said Tri-Klops shortly, starting to leave the room. Evil-lyn slid off of the table she had been sitting on and followed him, her hips swaying with every step she took. Her skirts rustled as she followed the swordsman down the hall and up a flight of stairs, finally reaching the destination of his chambers.

"Let's get this over with," said Evil-lyn in a business-like tone. "I have better things to do." Tri-Klops thought he had a pretty good idea about what those "better things" were, but he kept his opinions to himself.

Jamie was still in the same position that she had been in when he had left her, a little over forty-five minutes ago. Curled up into a small ball in the middle of his bed, she was trying her absolute hardest to get comfortable; the way that she clutched at the pillow and pulled the sheets over her nose suggested that she didn't want to be disturbed. _Too bad,_ thought Evil-lyn with a smirk. Gently, she peeled the sheets back and flung them to the side of the room; Jamie shivered and Tri-Klops frowned. "Hold her down," said Evil-lyn quietly, rubbing her hands as if to warm them. Obediently, Tri-Klops grabbed Jamie's shoulders and pushed down. The girl groaned in her sleep, somewhat aware that something was going on in the realm of reality. Evil-lyn touched the orb of her staff to Jamie's forehead and began to chant in a mystical voice:

_"Powers of darkness,_

_Forces of light, _

_I bid thee,_

_Your magic incite. _

_Arrest yourselves, _

_And listen close, _

_These wounds on this girl_

_You must dispose._

_Under her skin and into her pain, _

_Erase all traces of bruises and blain._

_Mend her bones and close her gashes, _

_Destroy all evidence of these petty clashes."_

As she spoke, a bright purple ball of light formed at the tip of her staff, eventually detaching itself when it reached the size of a child's fist. Evil-lyn lapsed into an ancient, indiscernible tongue at that point, and the ball began to rove over Jamie's body. Bathed in the soft purple glow, Jamie's body began to heal. Her bruises faded away until her pure white skin was the only pigmentation and the scratches and scrapes disappeared. The ball hovered over the gash in her side for several minutes, for it was the largest wound on her body.

Tri-Klops watched on in silent amazement as the stitching and bandages crumbled into dust and the skin knit itself back together. Quickly, he reached up to his visor and activated the switch that would allow him to record what he was seeing. He wanted to be able to watch this later, microscopically enhanced. It might give him a few ideas for some new inventions; provided, of course, that he finish the one's already in progress. Within a few minutes, Jamie's skin looked as perfectly healthy as it had when she had first arrived at Snake Mountain, but the purple ball continued to hang over the area where she had had her ribs broken. Tri-Klops surmised that this meant that the replacement ribs were being properly attached to the rest of her ribcage.

Eventually, Evil-lyn stopped chanting and the orb disappeared. The witch looked tired, almost like she was at the brink of collapse. Refusing Tri-Klops's offer to let her rest for a while, she left and went back to her own quarters. This left Jamie alone with Tri-Klops, which, at this point in time, seemed like a bad idea. At least, to Tri-Klops it seemed like a bad idea. Contrary to what Evil-lyn had said, Jamie had barely uttered a sound throughout the entire process. In fact, she hadn't even woken up. Tiny little moans escaped past her pale lips every now and then; she seemed more like she was having a nightmare than anything else.

Tri-Klops, despite his body's reaction to those moans, gained a new level of respect for her in that moment. Anyone who could endure wounds like she had, lived through a serious operation without any negative side effects, and undergo an excruciating (so Evil-lyn had said) magical healing had his respect. Cautiously, Tri-Klops picked up the sheet from the floor and covered Jamie back up. Of course, her resistance to the pain only made him all the more curious about her.

Was it her biology that granted her partial imperviousness, or was it some form of ancient magic? Had she always looked the way that she did now, or was her appearance a new acquirement? Sitting down on the bed next to her shoulder, Tri-Klops reached out and touched her cheek. Her skin was warm, so she wasn't a special type of robot or anything of the sort; he had pretty much reached the same conclusion after attaching the new ribs. Besides, no robot was as dumb and as childish as she.

Tri-Klops's hand moved further up the side of her face until he reached her hairline. Taking several strands of the silky white tresses between his fingers, he sighed. Something was happening to him, and he didn't know what. Maybe it was the youth of the girl that was causing him to feel soft. Maybe it was her comely beauty that made him ache for her. Maybe it was just her. Whatever the reason, he didn't know for sure, but he was pretty certain that he could, if he allowed himself, become seriously attached to Jamie. In fact, he wondered if he already wasn't.

_Stop right there, you idiot! _his subconscious screamed at him. _You are a villain! Men like you do _not _form attachments of this magnitude! What were you thinking? _

"I don't know," he whispered out loud.

_Well, whatever it is, get it out of your head, _the voice continued to shriek at him. _We have a job to do! _

"I know," said Tri-Klops, brushing his calloused fingers against Jamie's soft lips. He got up and walked to the edge of the room, probably to go clear his mind. At the door, he paused and looked back at Jamie, who was, amazingly, still asleep. He stood there for what seemed like the longest time, just observing the way that her chest rose and fell as she breathed. It all seemed so strange to him, but he figured that it was just in his head. After all, he hadn't had any sleep for a week, and he was tired. Seeing how his room was currently occupied, it looked like he was going to have to spend the night in his workshop.

_There are just some things you have to let alone,_ he decided.

* * *

Back in Tri-Klops's room, Jamie shuffled onto her side and exhaled deeply. She had been awake for the past five minutes, ever since Evil-lyn had left. It was an excruciating pain in her stomach that had pulled her from the deepest depths of slumber, bringing her to the brink of consciousness. At first she had wanted, no, _tried _to scream, but the pain had been too much. It was the type of pain that wrenches every nerve in your body until it completely prevents even the slightest reaction. Jamie hadn't even been able to twitch.

Her ears had been working, however, and she had heard Evil-lyn's voice, sounding very faint and far away; she had sounded as if she were reciting something. It had rhymed, at any rate. Someone had been holding onto her shoulders and pushing her down into the mattress and Jamie could only assume that it had been Tri-Klops. What had they been doing to her, though? Where had the purplish light come from? Why did she feel so………strange? Pushing the questions around in her head, Jamie flipped over on her other side………and realized that, despite the soreness in her bones, she was in no great pain.

"Huh?" she said dully, lifting up the covers (that had been replaced after Evil-lyn had left) to peer at her body. To her immense surprise and gratification, there wasn't a single wound on her body. "Whoa……….!" she yawned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and shaking her head. So that was what the pain had been from; Evil-lyn had been using magic to heal her. It was a tad strange though, for the witch never did anything for anyone unless there was something in it for her. At least, that's what Jamie had been told. Running her hands over her renewed skin, Jamie pondered this new development; she didn't like being in debt. _There's another one you owe,_ said a voice inside her head. _To this one you owe so much more……… _There was no need to question the identity of the person she was obligated to. It was the swordsman, Tri-Klops.

Evil-lyn had left almost immediately after the completion of the spell, leaving him in the room with her, alone. He had sat down on the bed, very close to her body; she had still been in enough pain to be discouraged from even trying to move, but she had enough feeling left in her skin to feel his touch. For some reason, the scientist's touch made her feel safe. It was a light touch, nothing much to be giddy over, but it felt good all the same. Jamie touched her cheek, smiling at the thought of what must've been going on in Tri-Klops's mind. Calm and collected, she could tell that he wasn't the type of man to give in to distractions. She could also deduct from that assumption that he hated anything that tempted him from his work, yet here he was, tolerating her presence.

She knew that she was setting herself up for heartbreak when she allowed herself to like him, even though she liked to think that it was nothing more than a teenage crush. It was so stupid; they barely spoke with each other, and even when they did, it was either to argue a point or torment one another, although there had been this one time where they had sat together in his workshop for a couple of hours, just talking. Even so, it was hardly the makings of a relationship. _One-sided relationship,_ she reminded herself. Even if he _did _tolerate her, there still wasn't any interest on his part, and there probably never would be, since Tri-Klops was far too dedicated to other things to engage his time with someone else. _Still, _sighed Jamie, _he'd be worth my time._ An ironic statement, considering that she had never been with anyone before.

_I wonder what color his eyes are………_ It was true; she had never seen the man's entire face. He never took off his visor when she was around and she doubted that he took it off when anyone else was around either. _Stupid code of secrecy._ Jamie knew that Tri-Klops was handsome; his high cheekbones, strong jaw, and straight nose testified to that. His body wasn't to be overlooked either. Well-defined muscles dwelled under his sun-tanned and battle-scarred skin, and were especially prominent during battle. While not as robust as Skeletor or Trapjaw, Tri-Klops still managed to impress Jamie with his strength. His sword was heavy, as Jamie had experienced first hand; it would take a good amount of endurance to continually swing it around. This brought to mind the swordsman's extraordinary speed during battle. The way he moved was very refined, and perhaps it could even be termed "graceful".

**_How pitiful._**

_Shut up and let me dream,_ frowned Jamie; that incessant voice that lived inside her head always seemed to speak up during times like these. She knew exactly what it was and who it belonged to, and it most definitely wasn't her conscience, for she was sure that had died off years ago. **_You need to watch yourself,_** the mean voice cautioned.**_ Don't get too attached._**

_I know,_ sighed Jamie irritably, _you don't need to remind me._

_**Obviously, I do, because you refuse to keep your emotions in check. This man isn't what he appears to be, I can promise you that. He's part of Skeletor's crew and for that you can't trust him.**_

_We can't be trusted either. Our record isn't exactly spotless, y'know?_

_**At least our reasons are justified.**_

_That's a load. His reasons could be just as good as ours, if not better._

_**Just be careful.**_

_Whatever._

Shaking her head to rid her mind of all traces of the voice that had oh so casually taken up residence in her mind, Jamie went over to one corner of the room where her things had been placed. Her backpack was still intact, as were most of the things inside, but her clothing had taken a severe thrashing and wasn't fit to be worn. "Dammit………," she muttered. With what little magic that she remembered it would be possible to conjure up something serviceable to wear while traveling, but Jamie didn't relish the idea.

She hated making new clothes.

* * *

_One week later_………

"Where is that insufferable child?" asked Skeletor as he tried to hold back a yawn. It was way too early in the morning to be up and about, especially if it was only to see off two of his best minions. He didn't see why he had to "see them off" in the first place. They could've seen their own damn selves off.

"It's only fitting for a leader to wish his men luck on their journey," Evil-lyn had purred as she had dug her nails into his shoulder when he had refused to get up. _Damn that witch and her beguiling words! _thought the dark mage as he suppressed the urge to fall asleep where he was standing. What aggravated him the most was the fact that he could've been back in his room, blissfully in slumber, if the girl hadn't been holding everything up.

"You _did _tell her to be ready before sunrise, didn't you?" growled Skeletor, wishing he had remembered to bring his Havoc Staff.

"Yes, my lord," answered Tri-Klops respectively.

"Then why isn't she here now?"

"I don't know."

"Then don't you think you should find out?"

"No, my lord. She'll be here soon."

"She better be," Skeletor murmured under his breath. He was in desperate need of sleep; he had been………entertaining Evil-lyn all night long, and didn't get much rest. His coherency skills were suffering for it. A few more moments passed, making Skeletor even more impatient with every second. Soon, the first few rays of the sun were beginning to peak out over the horizon.

At this point, Tri-Klops was beginning to worry as well. _Where could she have gotten to?_ he asked himself. _It's not like she's lost; she's been living here for three weeks now. She knows her way around the mountain._ Unfortunately for Tri-Klops and Trapjaw, Skeletor wasn't in the mood for entertaining the idea of a lost girl. "If she doesn't come out within the next minute," he seethed, "then I'm going in after her, and you can be guaranteed that I'll bring her out………..**IN PIECES**!"

It was at this moment that Jamie decided to appear, almost out of thin air it seemed. "Hello all!" she chirped cheerfully, like she wasn't at all late and that people weren't looking at her weirdly. "We ready to go?" Tri-Klops shook his head and sighed, while Trapjaw tried not to laugh. Evil-lyn looked slightly amused, Skeletor royally pissed, and everyone else sleepy. "Oooookay," said Jamie. "Can we go now?"

"Yes," hissed Skeletor, waving a clawed hand sharply. "Go. Complete your objective and blah blah blah. You know the routine. Just go." Jamie smiled charmingly and hopped down the mountain, with her two companions trailing along a bit more cautiously. No sooner were they out of sight then everyone, save Skeletor and Evil-lyn, dragged themselves back to their individual chambers.

"What?" gasped Evil-lyn in feigned shock when he refused to move. "The almighty Skeletor refuses to return to his chambers? Are you feeling all right? Must I carry you?"

"Hold your tongue, Evil-lyn, before I permanently remove it from your skull."

"What now?" asked the witch, leaning against Skeletor. Five minutes ago he had been complaining about not getting enough sleep; now he wasn't taking the chance to get more rest?

"Heh," her superior chuckled, "that idiotic girl has no clue. She's absolutely oblivious."

Evil-lyn switched her stance and smirked. "You debriefed them then?"

"No, I thought it better if they too remained ignorant. It was an excellent idea, my dear Evil-lyn."

"Of course it was," said Evil-lyn, fussing with her nails. "It was _mine_."

"Of course," whispered Skeletor, pulling her to his chest.

"What are you doing, you oaf?!" she hissed indignantly. "Someone could see us!"

"Not today. I'm sending everyone to the Mystic Mountains, to pick up a special item for me," he said, nipping at her earlobe. "We'll have the place to ourselves………" His last sentence trailed off suggestively, and Evil-lyn smirked.

"It seems I've underestimated you again, Skeletor," she said as she caressed his arms. "I didn't think you'd _ever _think to send them away."

"Watch it, Evil-lyn. I wouldn't want to have to relieve you of your tongue, seeing as how you're going to be using it very shortly." Evil-lyn raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh am I?" she asked innocently. "Just what did you have in mind?" With a wicked red gleam in his eyes, Skeletor pulled her back into the confines of the mountain, explaining the details in full.

All Evil-lyn could muster was an awe-inspired, "Oh."

* * *

**A/N:** I am now fully in love with this chapter. Jamie no longer sounds like a know-it-all Mary-Sue.


	14. Closer to Evil Pt 1

**Arzosah** - Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like my story and that you think that I've done well with developing the characters; keeping people in character is one of my greatest concerns. Glad you like, and I hope you like this chapter as well.

**The Dark Temptress** - Grumpy Ol' Skeletor. I just had a vision of Jamie saying that behind his back and him turning around to blast her into oblivion. Oh, what a scene that would make! Hell surfaced earth…….join the club, sweetheart, lol. Glad you enjoyed the last chapter ;)

**Eva91** - It's alright; I'm just sorry that it took so darn long to get this chapter out; writer's block strikes again! You know, I just realized that the one year anniversary of the birth of this story is coming up. That makes me go "Wow."

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything associated with _He-man and the Masters of the Universe_, but I do attain my individual rights to Jamie, Ailil, and anyone else not immediately recognizable to the MotU universe.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Closer to Evil: Part One**

* * *

Trapjaw watched Jamie with concealed amusement as she skipped over some particularly large rocks. Whatever had put her in a good mood was contagious, for the cyborg found himself occasionally smiling at he girl's antics. Even Tri-Klops fell victim to her innate cheerfulness, lightening up enough to the point where he was actually contributing to conversations that weren't apropos with their journey. Jamie bounded over a few more boulders (which no one had any idea of how they came to be) and dropped out of sight, her white hair trailing behind her like a banner. Having forsaken the tattered clothes that she had worn upon arriving at Snake Mountain, Jamie had somehow managed to put together an entirely new outfit, one which had almost no use except for that of decoration. At least, that was Trapjaw's opinion, even though he felt that Tri-Klops would agree with him………if the man ever stopped ogling her.

A close-fitting top, complete with off-the-shoulder sleeves (it was a wonder that they didn't fall down altogether; it was probably a woman thing, for Evil-lyn had always declared that women had far more dress sense than men) and a plunged neckline, was a deep green in color and fell to mid-thigh; brown pants were tucked into knee-high black boots, completing the ensemble. Trapjaw had to admit that the kid was pretty cute, and could see what had Tri-Klops so enraptured. She was her own deal, and she knew how to work it.

_Trike_, thought Trapjaw solemnly, _if you let something like that go, you'd be an idiot of the worst kind._

Trapjaw wasn't blind; he could see the attraction that the two shared, and it was just the complex matter of making them both aware of it. His opinion, of course, hadn't changed since he had first gotten the idea into his head to get Tri-Klops laid; it would do him so much good. But whether or not Tri-Klops loosened up enough to allow himself some much-deserved pleasure was no longer the issue; it was whether or not he would allow himself to become too attached. _He has a better head than that,_ the cyborg reassured himself, grunting as he adjusted his heavy burden.

Having taken into account all that was bound to happen, Tri-Klops had made them prepare for the worst possible scenario. Their knapsacks were far heavier than they should've been, and Trapjaw was seriously considering dumping his to rely on nature's providence. He had done so before and he seriously doubted that his luck would fail him, even though Tri-Klops would probably pitch a fit. _I'll risk it_, he thought threateningly. Trapjaw had never been one to rely on others; it used to be that he trusted himself and only himself. Ever since joining up with Skeletor all those years ago, he had had no choice but to learn to trust his comrades. Even that was stretching the truth; no one _truly _trusted anyone. If not trust, then at least relying on the others to do their job so he wouldn't have to.

At first, they had been like a bunch of bugs, scurrying around in different directions and generally screwing things up. Thanks to Skeletor's experience and patience, though, they became the efficient body that they were today. There had been issues dealing with things like the question of whether or not Skeletor had been fit to lead them. This small matter had been resolved after Skeletor had blown off Trapjaw's right arm and had completely destroyed his lower jaw. That had happened so many years ago though, and Trapjaw had never been one to dwell on the past. He now respected Skeletor greatly, for what it was worth.

Of course, this was before the whole He-man and the Masters joining forces to thwart Skeletor at every corner. Since then the entire mountain had been disorganized and dysfunctional as a unit. Trapjaw suspected that it was because they had never gotten over the embarrassment of their first defeat. It had been so unexpected and so random, that they practically fell apart at the seams. The memory beginning to leave a bitter taste in his mouth, Trapjaw refocused his attentions on the road.

Tri-Klops had argued with Jamie and him for the better part of ten minutes on which path to follow: the one which led them closer to civilization or the one that toed the forest tree-line. In the end, Tri-Klops won, and his two reluctant companions were made to follow. Granted, he had a valid point, what with them not really wanting to draw attention to those who might contact the Defenders, but Trapjaw would've preferred to make a stop or two. Jamie had looked like maybe she would've liked sticking closer to the towns as well. Trapjaw didn't _mind_ it that they were taking the more obscure route, but she had looked outright uncomfortable at the prospect, like she was expecting something bad to happen.

Maybe it was a woman thing.

Three standard hours passed, bringing the threesome to the outskirts of a small village; Tri-Klops had finally relented after Jamie had practically begged him to stop by at least _one _village. Unlike most frontiers on or near the Dark Hemisphere, this one didn't have much in the way of defenses and no way of contacting Eternos. A ten-foot tall wooden gate surrounded the entire perimeter of the village and sentries were posted within ten feet of each other along its length. The guards were armed with simple blaster rifles and several other "weapons of choice". That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. All in all, a rather pitiful ensemble.

"Hey, Trike!" called Trapjaw, getting the swordsman's attention. "We should stop here before goin' through Gwylvos Forest; navigatin' that place at night is like tryin' ta find yer way through the Sands of Time blindfolded."

Tri-Klops nodded curtly. "I agree," he said, "but I want to at least get to Waedimort Pass; the journey will be easier from there on out."

"Says you," mumbled Jamie, who didn't think much of the idea. She knew that traveling through Gwylvos Forest would lead them straight to Blackmere, which was just as close to the Berserk Islands as Havenshore. The last thing she wanted right now was to be near the very cause of all her problems. In fact, earlier, she had been so desperate to avoid Blackmere that she had actually darted off the trail and into the forest, forcing both Tri-Klops and Trapjaw to try and catch her. In the end, it had been the swordsman who had caught up to her, and the first thing he had done was smack her soundly across the face.

A bright red mark had immediately appeared on Jamie's cheek as she had reeled back, shocked that he had actually struck her (she hadn't been expecting that). Her eyes had glinted with rage and something a bit more sinister, but Tri-Klops was oblivious. "I've no time for this," he had said sharply. "We need to cover as much ground as possible and going through Blackmere is the easiest way to do so. You can either come along or stay behind; it's your choice." Turning away from Jamie, the scientist had trekked back to the trail, eager to get to the edge of the Gwylvos Forest before nightfall.

Trapjaw had tried to cajole Jamie into giving them both a break, but she had huffed and refused to say anything else on the matter. _Brat_, Trapjaw had thought. It wasn't like too much was being asked of her. Deciding to leave her alone to her thoughts, the cyborg had taken Jamie's pack from her and moved on ahead. Jamie had lagged behind, seething on the inside. In fact, she was _still _irate.For some reason, Tri-Klops' s infringement on her person caused her to feel somewhat betrayed. She didn't very much care for the feeling that was generated within her chest, nor did she know where it had come from. It was one of those things that swooped in out of no where and was gone before one could figure out what it was supposed to mean. _I hate this,_ she grumbled internally. Jamie, like Tri-Klops, didn't like not being able to decipher her own emotions, but she didn't make as big of a deal out of it as he did.

Normally, after being hit, she would've attempted to strike that person back, but this time had been different. While the murderous rage that accompanied her………_moments _did indeed arise within her, Jamie hadn't really wanted to cause Tri-Klops any harm. She had tensed at first, ready to spring up and punch him or something, but her arms and legs suddenly felt as heavy as lead and she was unable to carry through with her desired actions. _What the hell is wrong with me?!_ she had asked herself, frightened that something horrible had happened to her body. The last thing she wanted was to be incapacitated at a time like this.

"Hurry up!" drifted a faint voice from far ahead. Jamie snapped out of her disturbing thoughts and ran to catch up with Trapjaw and Tri-Klops, who were at least forty meters ahead. _I'm beginning to hate this,_ she thought, ignoring Tri-Klops's chastisement about her dawdling.

_The sooner it's over, the better._

* * *

_Somewhere in the Northern Polar Ice Cap_………

"Liala!" whispered a small, frightened voice.

Water dripped from a crack somewhere far above, possibly from the ceiling. Horned rats hissed threateningly at one another as they fought for dominance over a few bread crumbs. In the darkened chamber, one could hear the faint rattling of heavy chains, and the scuffle of skin as someone scooted across the dry stone floor.

"What is it Tanny?" asked an older voice.

"W-what's gonna to happen t-to us?" asked the other voice, presumably Tanny.

"I don't know," said the older girl, Liala, as she sighed into the dark.

"B-but I'm hungry!" whined Tanny persistently. "I-I wanna go h-home! I'm c-cold and we-wet. I-I want my m-mommy and, and daddy!" the child's voice broke, and quiet sniffling could be heard. Liala groaned; she hated having to play at babysitter.

"Look," she said soothingly, putting on a false cheery voice, "he'll let us go soon. When he does, you can go back to your mommy and daddy, okay?" Tanny whimpered, but she was no longer crying, which was a good thing.

"Hey Liala?" she said after few moments of silence.

"Yes, Tanny?"

"I'm young, not stupid."

A silence fell between the two, with Liala feeling more and more embarrassed by the second. "You don't have to lie to me to make me feel better," Tanny continued, a disappointed tone in her voice. Liala shook her head sadly and turned to the side, where she stretched out along the cold floor. It was so sad; Tanise, or Tanny, as she had insisted on being called, was only thirteen. Naïve in both body and mind, she had come to this horrid place not knowing what was in store for her. Like so many others, she had been kidnapped from her homeland to be used for more sinister purposes. Liala wept inside at the thought of what would happen to the child.

At twenty-three, Liala was no stranger to pain. She had lived in the castle since she was nineteen, and she knew what to expect. Unfortunately, Tanny did not, and neither would she understand why anyone would want to do such a thing to her. Liala could only pray that when the girl was finally released for what would most surely be her last moments of innocence, that it was all over quickly for her. Liala hadn't been so lucky; the very first day she had spent in the dungeons, she was called upon by the Lord of the castle. Several guards had hustled her out of the dungeon and had handed her over to an old woman of about sixty. Liala could remember the pain in the old woman's eyes as she instructed her to take a bath and to put on the new clothes that had been lain out for her.

She had complied, confused at first, but grateful to have been given the chance to freshen up. Little did she know that it was all for naught. She had been escorted to the Lord's room, where he had done things to her, unspeakable things that made her cry every time she thought about them. She had become inconsolable, and had curled up into a ball and screamed until there was no more breath left in her to make even the smallest of sounds. They were the type of memories that the very worst kind of nightmares were made out of.

_Please don't let it happen to Tanny,_ prayed Liala, hoping that the Elders were listening. She couldn't bear the thought of the poor child being forced to endure what she had; it was unspeakable, the crimes that the Lord committed against women. She had heard it being whispered among the guards that the man who lived so secretly within this fortress wasn't privy to gender; she had heard that it had happened to men and young boys as well. Liala didn't want to believe it, for it was too horrifying to even think of. Unfortunately, she did not doubt that the guards were telling the truth, for what did they have to gain from lying? _Oh, Elders,_ she thought sadly, _why do men like him exist?_

"Liala?" came Tanny's small, frightened whisper.

"Yes, Tanny?"

"I'm so scared."

Groping about in the darkness, Liala found the other girl's small hand and gripped it tightly, hoping that it was enough to let the poor thing know that she was there for her, even though they barely knew each other. "It'll be okay," lied Liala sorrowfully, wishing that her words could become a reality, "we'll get through it, I promise." Tanny sniffed a couple more times and squeezed Liala's hand, her grip painfully tight.

"I just w-wanna go home."

"I know, baby, trust me, I know."

The two girls leaned against each other, grateful for the warmth that their combined body heat generated. Eventually, with Tanny's head drooping onto Liala's shoulder, thee two girls fell into a fitful slumber. They dozed for about two, maybe three standard hours before they were awoken by a loud banging on their dungeon door.

**BAM!**

Liala bolted upright and hurriedly brushed the sleep out of her eyes, immediately aware of what was about to happen. "_No_………!" she whispered fearfully. Tanny was a bit slower in coming too; it had been, surprisingly, a good nap.

**BAM!**

Something crashed against the door again, most likely the fist of one of the guards. There was a rattling noise, the keys to the door, and then a soft clicking. Liala and Tanny both held their breaths, awaiting for the next moment.

_Click!_

The lock slid open and three hulking men entered the room at once, one of them brandishing his hand like a weapon. "Take the girl!" he roared, directing the other two to Tanny. Liala cried out and pulled the younger girl to her, desperate to save her from what she knew was about to happen.

"Get back, bitch!" snarled one of the men, kicked her cruelly in the jaw. Liala yelped and was thrown back, leaving Tanny to the mercy of the guards. Grabbing the tiny girl by the upper arms, two of the guards hauled her to her feet and out of the dungeon door. The third man, who was undoubtedly their leader, bent over Liala and pulled her up by her hair.

She cried out again from the pain, but her jaw flopped uselessly to the side; it was broken. "That should put you in your place, you worthless whore!" whispered the man fiercely, as he leaned forward to lick the blood off of her lip. Liala gave another incoherent howl at his contact with her injured jaw, and he dropped her into a heap. Bounding out of the room and locking the door behind him, he left Liala to lay there, curled up in a sobbing ball. Her face felt like it was on fire, and she couldn't properly move her lower jaw without it feeling like it was about to fall off.

She knew that someone would eventually come in to care for her, but it didn't matter anymore. She no longer wanted to live in a world where things like this happened. She wanted to die and be done with it. _Why is this happening?_ she sobbed to herself.

_Isn't there anyone who can help us?_

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter's okay, but I don't like it too much; maybe it's because Jamie is too unfeeling in this one, but I also think it reflects her annoyance very well. Tri-Klops can't be the only one who's letting this get under his skin.


	15. Closer to Evil Pt 2

**HitokiriKurisuta **- You thought that was depressing? Man, maybe you shouldn't read the first half of this chapter, then, lol. Hope this doesn't disturb you too much, even though it's WAY toned down from what it was going to be. Glad you liked the Triky-ogling

**The Dark Temptress** - Thanks for the kind comments Yes, Reaper's outfit is cool; I have it down in my head perfectly, but I don't think I'd be able to draw it. Maybe I'll try, someday. And yes, I hope to make at least two people cry before the end of this story.

**Eva91** - Take your time in reviewing! I certainly don't expect you to be right there at the computer the minute I put a new chapter up I do miss talking to you though TT Yes, Jamie's brother is pure evil, and I hope to establish that fact with this chapter. Thanks for reviewin'!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any characters associated with He-man and the Masters of the Universe, other than those who I have created using my own imagination.

**Warning: This chapter contains adult content that you may not find to your liking. If such is the case, then please skip over the section with the warning. You are, of course, responsible for your own activities.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Closer to Evil: Part Two**

* * *

Far away, in a small section of uncharted territory of the Northern Polar Ice Cap, there exists a large castle. The territory that surrounds it is as barren and merciless as the man who dwells within. Ravaged by the never ceasing snowfall that plagues the Northern Polar Ice Cap, it is near impossible to find.

To those who _do _know of its existence, or have heard about it from weary travelers, it is known as the Dead Zone. Those who are lost or kidnapped under mysterious circumstances are rumored to have been carted away to the castle, where they are never to be seen again. Some whisper that the victims are eaten by creatures deemed by the Elders too horrifying to be set loose on Eternia, and a few believe that they are mutilated beyond recognition and sent back into the world to terrify superstitious travelers. Still others are adamant that the poor souls are locked up, deep beneath the foundations of the castle, where they shall rot for all of eternity. Naturally, none of the ones "taken" are ever seen by their loved ones again.

These stories, extraordinary as they are, spread throughout the region, becoming more and more ludicrous as they're passed along. Only the guards who live within the castle know the truth, and even they are trapped as the prisoners that they guard, unable to leave the confines of the great stone walls. It is perhaps for the better, since the truth is far worse than any fabrication that the villagers could weave. The guards know this, and thus satisfy themselves with the knowledge that they're the _only_ ones who know the truth, other than the prisoners themselves and the master of the castle.

This man who is so often spoken of, whose name mothers utter to hush a crying babe, is one of the most dangerous, most despicable, most horrifying men on the face of Eternia. He is also the most unheard of. In fact, the only ones that believe that he exists, that truly believe, are those who are captive in his ghastly castle. To them, he is the darkest portion of their nightmares, the one who gives them cause to fear everything that they've always known.

It is he who leaves them with wounds not easily healed by doctors and medicines, or even magic. It is he whom they fear, above all other atrocities. It is he who makes their lives a veritable living hell. It is he who keeps them under lock and key, like animals, and allows them to be treated as such. It is he who is the known and the unknown.

This is his domain.

* * *

_**!WARNING! - PWP - !WARNING!**_

Tanny was terrified. Her insides were squirming with apprehension and dread clawed at her young mind, creating horrible, outlandish assumptions. The poor girl knew not where she was headed and the fact that she was most likely to be alone unnerved her most, even more so then the cruel guards and the dark dungeons. All Tanny cared about was escaping and getting back to her parents and siblings.

A few tears slipped down her flushed cheeks as she drew a great breath, wondering if she'd _ever_ see her beloved family again. Would she stay here, trapped for the rest of her life? Would she die old and alone? _No!_ she cried to herself. _You mustn't think that way! They'll find _you………_they_have _to find you_………

Thinking about the probabilities of a search party immediately reminded Tanny of Liala, her unfortunate cellmate. The young lady had been there for an entire four years, and had experienced horrors that Tanny could only dream of. Liala had never spoken to Tanny concerning her treatment at the hands of the guards, and _certainly_ nothing about the man who lived upstairs; she had refused to even name him. Tanny had never understood why. It couldn't be _that_ bad. But then again, maybe it could. Tanny whimpered at the thought, earning herself a contemptible glare from one of the two guards. "I'm s-scared," she mumbled in apology.

"It'll get worse," the guard growled; he was, in fact, a Spelean. His massive wings were carefully folded along his thin back and his clawed feet clicked against the stones with every step. His fearsome face was currently scowling, as if he had better things to do with his time than escort little girls around. The other guard, a human, sighed heavily as Tanny's brow furrowed.

_Worse?_ she thought, _Why? What's going to happen? _

Taking a sharp right turn the guards led the frightened child up a flight of stairs, which was well lit compared to the dank hallway. Tanny tried her hardest not to cry in front of her captors, but the tears escaped from her eyes and cascaded down her face. Thankfully, the sentinels didn't notice this, as they were too focused on their duty.

A young girl of thirteen, Tanny had never thought of the possibility of being abducted; it was too improbable, given the fact that she wasn't worth much. Of course, that was only in the sense that she was no one of great importance. Having lived on a small farm her entire life, Tanny knew little about the affairs that governed Eternos or any of its neighboring kingdoms. She cared not for politics, and had never shown any interest in fancy balls or dressy gowns. She saw men only as an older species of boy and felt absolutely nothing other than brotherly feelings for them. Of course, her mother had explained to her all about "IT" (no one dared to call "IT" by its true name until they were much older) and why she should practice abstinence until she was married, to which Tanny agreed wholeheartedly.

Her father had given her tips on how to avoid shady-looking men while her brothers had taught her how to beat one up if he got too close. Tanny adored her brothers for this reason. Her siblings knew well enough that their sister would be needing those skills; she was desirable, after all. With shoulder-length, curly brown hair and eyes the color of the sky, Tanny was able to turn heads wherever she went, and without meaning to. Her build was slim, almost petite, and her curves just beginning to show. Her full lips curved into an absolutely devilish smile when she felt mischievous, but could appear downright lusty when she pouted.

Surprisingly, Tanny was absolutely unaware of her beauty, and was oblivious to the attention that she accumulated. She was the perfect girl, in a sense; she was beautiful, but modest; innocent, yet not ignorant; slender, but not skinny. It was little wonder why she had been kidnapped. No doubt the guards had thought that their master would be pleased with their find. And pleased he was, now that he had found time for the young delicacy. Tanny was to be brought to his chambers, so that he might………experiment with her, in a manner of speaking.

After a several minutes of walking in silence, Tanny's curiosity got the better of her fear and she asked, "Where are we going?"

The Spelean didn't even glance in her direction, but the human guard answered, saying, "Ye don' wanna know." Immediately, his companion growled, turning on him.

"Why do you insist on showing these plebeians compassion?!" he spat, his grip on Tanny's arm tightening uncomfortably.

"Look at 'er," the man retaliated. "She's jist a child. Ye _know_ whit's gonna 'appen to 'er."

"It's none of our concern, Berrodius."

"Tain't right."

"It doesn't matter."

Berrodius fell silent, ceding to the Spelean's argument. A silent frown crossed his drawn features, but it was quickly replaced by the customary scowl of a hardened man. Still, Tanny saw the self-loathing within his dark eyes, just as she noticed that his grip on her arm was gentler.

A few moments later, the trio arrived at a large door at the top of the stairs. It was red, the only splash of color within the otherwise drab castle. Three thick bands of durasteel were horizontally bolted across the front and four vertical rows of studs crisscrossed over them. A strange form of writing was carved into the available areas, but it was far too small for Tanny to properly make out. The Spelean raised his clawed hand and rapped on the door twice before stepping back. Tanny shivered as her fear returned with a vengeance and she unconsciously leaned towards Berrodius. "Tain't right," repeated the sympathetic guard.

"Deal with it," whispered the other in a monotone voice.

The crimson door suddenly groaned, opening of its own accord. It slowly creaked outwards, revealing a dark room. There were no candles or any other form of illumination, causing Tanny to sob quietly; she hated the dark, even more so when she was alone. "Get in there!" snarled the Spelean, shoving the young girl into the dark.

"AAAAIIIIEEE!" she screamed as she fell against the floor. The door closed, again, by itself, leaving Tanny to the mercy of the mysterious. "N-no!" she yelped as darkness descended upon her, but it was too late. The door slid into place and the heavy lock clicked; there was no escaping.

* * *

Crying softly, Tanny sat up and scooted backwards until her back came in contact with the door. It was dark, so dark that she couldn't see her own hand three inches from her nose. Drawing her slender knees up to her chest, Tanny wrapped her arms around herself and curled up into a ball. She still didn't understand the significance of the room, and neither did she know why _she_ had been brought there. "I-I wanna go h-home," she sniffed, dragging a hand across her tear-ravaged face.

"Now why," purred a deep voice, "would you want to do that?"

Tanny gasped and looked up, her eyes futilely searching the darkness for some sort of clue as to where the voice had come from. "Don't bother," it whispered suddenly, seemingly closer than before. "You can't see me………"

Something brushed against her cheek, making her start.

"………Not unless _I _want you………to see me."

"Who _are_ you?" asked Tanny, sounding much braver than she felt.

"Does it really matter?" asked the voice, responding with a question of its own.

Tanny, confused, stood up and mumbled, "I s'pose not. But I-I _would_ like to see the person I'm talking to."

"Would you now?" the voice chuckled, right behind her. "I suppose I can grant you that one, simple request." Suddenly and without warning, the room brightened as numerous candles spontaneously lit themselves. Tanny gasped in awe as the splendor of the room was unveiled. It was neither large nor small, but settled somewhere in a happy medium. The walls were deep blue in color with gold trimmings. There was a large bed in the corner, with what looked like silk coverings. A small library stood at the opposite end of the room, its shelves filled with books and gadgets alike.

"It's very beautiful," she complimented, more to herself than to its owner, who had been immediately forgotten in light of such splendor.# Her gaze slid from one wondrous object to the next; never before had she seen such finery in one room! She wanted to run over to the bookshelf and touch everything, especially the books; the massive, leather-bound volumes were so tempting.

Turning to her speaker for the first time, Tanny was momentarily struck speechless by his impressive appearance. He was a broad-shouldered man of at least 6'3", and his muscular build was very prominent through his robes, which were stretched tight across his chest. He stood straight, with his legs apart and his hands clasped behind his back. His clothing reminded Tanny of what the kings in her old storybooks would wear, except this man wore all black. _Only the bad kings wore black,_ she remembered vividly, instantly growing suspicious.

The man's countenance was stoic, devoid of any emotion. Long, silky black hair framed his angular face, held firmly in place by a silver clip positioned at the base of his sleek neck. Cold blue eyes studied Tanny curiously, visually devouring her form. Tanny herself didn't notice this, but instead cast her eyes down at the floor, shy of this handsome new stranger.

"Forgive me for asking," he said, his rich voice caressing the girl's ears, "but I'm afraid that I do not know your name. What may I call you by?" His tone was so warm and inviting, so full of grace and charm that Tanny felt compelled to answer.

"My full name is Tanise," She whispered timidly, swaying back and forth. The man closed his azure eyes and smiled serenely, inhaling deeply, as if her name was a fragrant perfume. Tanny could've sworn that he was purring, but she couldn't have been sure.

"That is an exquisite moniker," he said, slowly opening his eyes. "Suiting, for such a lovely young girl. Tell me, how many years have you seen?"

Tanny twittered at his manner of speech; he spoke like the storybook kings as well, and there was absolutely nothing about him that suggested that he might be evil. _Perhaps he just likes black,_ she decided. "I'm thirteen," She answered, smiling brightly. Again, the man closed his eyes, enjoying something unknown to Tanny.

"So young," he whispered to himself, "and so beautiful. It is rare that I meet one with such refinement." Tanny didn't know quite how to react to his gracious comments. Back home, she had been far too young to receive men, and as a result she didn't understand the specifics of flattery. She simply believed that the man was being nice.

When her host did not open his eyes, Tanny grew bold and asked him, "What is your name, Sir?" Once again, those winter-like eyes unveiled themselves and stared at Tanny. She began to feel slightly ashamed of herself for being so inquisitive. Her mother had always warned her about how her curiosity would lead her into trouble one day. She was just about ready to apologize for her "rudeness" when the man spoke.

"You may address me as Mortiferus," he said. Tanny thought that it sounded a bit strange, but then she remembered that some people who were very important would have two names: their given names and then a title. _Maybe that's it,_ she thought, _he must be really special to have his own title._

"If you'll excuse me asking," she said out loud, "why have you brought me here?" Mortiferus, as he had insisted, smiled lazily and beckoned the girl over to his side. She went readily, eager to learn more about her large, but seemingly gentle, companion.

"'Tis a long story, child," he stated grandly. "But, I could show you, if you so wish."

"Yes, please!" she nodded fervently, her eyes sparkling with interest.

"Very well, I shall show you. But first, I want you to promise me something."

"Anything!" the young girl exclaimed.

Mortiferus leaned forward, a small smirk pulling at his lips. "You mustn't fight me, for it will make things unpleasant, and I'm quite sure neither of us wants that." When Tanny looked at him strangely, he quickly assuaged her uncertainties with a deploring look.

"Please," he whispered anxiously, "it is most important that you listen to me. Now be a good girl and promise me. In fact, it can be our secret, just the two of us!"

"I don't know," said Tanny slowly. "My Mommy told me not to keep secrets because they aren't nice."

"I understand," responded Mortiferus, as quickly as if he had known what she was going to say before the words left her mouth. "I understand your willingness to obey your parents and I commend you for your admirable efforts. You'll make them very proud someday. However, I can assure you that this is far more important than you realize; your parents will forgive you, I swear it."

Tanny's mind swirled, trying to grasp at the meaning behind the large words he was using. She was just a country girl, not used to the striking speech of the nobility. _What is he saying?_ she asked herself. _What does he mean? Should I trust him?_ Mortiferus was staring at her with ferocious intensity, as if he was attempting to burn a hole through her brain. Tanny mistook the passionate look for something of a less devious nature, yet blushed all the same under his scrutiny. "I guess it can't hurt any," she finally relented, after careful deliberation.

Mortiferus gave a delighted grin and snapped his fingers twice; Tanny felt an invisible hand at her shoulder and suddenly found herself being shoved backwards. Instead of falling to the floor, however, she landed on the silk bed, which she had sworn was on the other side of the room. Looking up, Tanny found that she had moved, not the bed. But before she could even begin to ponder the dynamics of how she had gotten from end of the room to the other in the blink of an eye, Tanny found herself being pinned down by a great weight.

"Remember, dear girl, no resisting me."

Mortiferus smiled down at the girl, each of his strong arms on either side of her head. He straddled her, his lean, muscled thighs tight against her hips. He hovered over her like her dog would whenever it knocked her down in play. However, unlike those times with her pet, Tanny didn't find the current situation at all playful.

She bucked against the man who had her pinned, and was surprised to feel something hard brush against her stomach. Not knowing what it was, and growing all the more frightened by the second, Tanny lay still and pleaded with Mortiferus. "Please get off of me," she whispered calmly, using every last ounce of her self-restraint in order to appear calm and undisturbed. Her eyes, terrified and absolutely swimming in confusion, betrayed her, though, and Mortiferus reveled in the fact that he had such power over her. Leaning forward, he brushed his fingertips over the slight swell of her young breasts, groaning at the sensation of virgin flesh beneath him.

"What are you doing?" asked Tanny fearfully, not liking where she was being touched.

"I'm showing you the reason you were brought here," he growled back. Tanny shrunk back as far as the bed allowed her to. Mortiferus' entire mannerism had changed, so that the gentle, courteous man was absent. In his place was something dangerous and feral. His voice, though still suave, had deepened several octaves and held a hint of rasp to it. His eyes, recently full of kindness and understanding, were now narrowed into thin, angry slits; his pupils had dilated, blotting out all the color of his eye. His sensuous lips were curled back into an unbecoming snarl, and his entire body was practically bristling with tension and a barely restrained something.

Tanny attempted to shove him off of her; she didn't like where this was going, not one bit. "Get off," she repeated, adding a bit more force behind her words. Mortiferus snarled at her, baring his teeth like an beast. Tanny gasped and immediately stopped moving. She so terribly wanted to throw him off of her, but he frightened her with his animalistic expressions.

"You're mine," he growled suddenly, bringing his lips down over hers. Tanny choked as he shoved his tongue past her lips, and she tried to pull away but found that it was no use; he held her head firmly in his grasp, and wasn't letting go anytime soon. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes and streamed down her cheeks at the invasion of her mouth; this was _not_ how she had imagined her first kiss. She struggled against him, forgetting all about the promise that she had made just moments before. She wanted him gone and she wanted to go back to the dungeon, where she knew it was safer.

"Leave me alone!" she whimpered around Mortiferus' mouth, slapping his back with her freed hands. Her distress only served to arouse him further, and he abandoned her lips in search of something more fulfilling.

His experienced hands slid up her trim waist, pulling up the thin frock that she wore as he did so. Tanny tried to bat his hands away, but he caught both of her wrists in a painful grip and twisted them above her head. "Aaaahhh!" she cried out, the pressure between her shoulder blades impossibly sharp. She thrashed from side to side, but quickly stopped as it only served to bring her more discomfort.

"Stop!" she half-shouted, kicking out with one leg, the other still pinned beneath Mortiferus. In response, he ripped her tunic in half, exposing her small, rounded breasts to the cool air of the room. Her dusky nipples tightened and immediately puckered into peaks, inviting Mortiferus to take one within his mouth. He did so then, and began nipping harshly at the sensitive skin that he found there. Tanny immediately froze, though from fear or pleasure it was hard to tell. In her mind, she knew that she was being raped, but his mouth on her young breast felt _so _good, so _right_! She didn't know whether to scream or sigh; she thought if her body was reacting so positively to his ministrations, then she should want it. Maybe she was feeling the wrong emotion? Maybe he wasn't really raping her………

Unintentionally, she arched into his touch, pressing her developing bosom further into his mouth. Mortiferus reached behind Tanny's back and held her in place, granting him easier access. His free hand still held Tanny's arms above her head, but the pressure wasn't as agonizing as before………until Mortiferus yanked them backwards. A shrill cry split the air as her shoulder joints protested against such abuse, and she began to resist him again. He then bit down on her young breasts, drawing blood from the tender areolas. Tanny screamed this time, in fear and pain. Never before had such a thing happened to her, and she was horrified; she didn't think it possible for something to be so painful.

Mortiferus continued to suck on the bloody tip, unmindful of the girl's discomfort. His hand that supported Tanny's back began a new journey, one that brought him closer to the ultimate prize. His fingers curled around the waistband of the simple undergarments that she wore and deftly ripped them off of her body, revealing her sex to his scrutiny. Tanny screamed again and tried to cover herself, but she couldn't; her arms were still being oppressed. Slowly, mockingly, Mortiferus raised his head to smirk at the poor girl. She whimpered at the sight of his eyes, whose pupils were contracting and dilating at a rapid pace, and the demonic smile that played about his lips.

His expression seemed to say, "I control you. I own you. You belong to _me_, and _I _decide your fate."

"Please………," she whispered, moaning at the pain emanating from her shoulders and bosom. Mortiferus just continued to stare at her. His tongue snaked out from in between perfectly straight, white teeth and trailed across her uninjured breast. Tanny cried out and tried to shrink away from him, knowing that he would only hurt her again.

"Scream for me," he demanded of her; Tanny didn't understand why he wanted her to scream and was on the verge of asking the question herself when Mortiferus continued to nuzzle her chest.

Apparently, he had read her mind, for he quickly began tearing at the soft skin of her breast, drawing even more blood. Tanny screamed again, louder than before as he tortured her with his cruel fetish. "NOOOOOO!" she howled in torment. Mortiferus backhanded her casually as he continued to ravage her bosom, and she broke down in sobs. The tears were flowing freely, unchecked down her cheeks as she fought him with all the strength she had in her little body, but in the end she was no match for him. She screamed, cried, and pleaded with him as he violated her body, but the man-turned-monster wouldn't listen.

He hit her wherever his hands would reach; her face, her breasts, her stomach, her back, it didn't matter to him. The only thing that mattered was that he hurt her as much as humanly possible. Her pain brought him pleasure, and he indulged in it many, many times throughout the night. Of course, Tanny had screamed, cried, and pleaded with him to let her go, but his mind had been made up long before she had been brought to him. He wasn't about to let her go when he could have "fun" with her. She had fought valiantly, kicking, biting, and scratching whatever bit of flesh she came in contact with. She left Mortiferus with just as many wounds as he had given her, though none were as serious as the ones that covered her body.

Mortiferus invaded her wholly, in every sense of the word, defiling that which was sacred and taking that which was not his to take. There had been so much pain, and everything had hurt to such a degree that Tanny felt that she would die. Her body felt like it was being slowly ripped to shreds, both inside and out. After the most agonizing part had somewhat subsided, Tanny immediately began to, again, fight back, but he only hurt her more. Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore and just stopped opposing him altogether, simply laying still while he finished up with her; once done, he refastened his pants (he hadn't even bothered removing his clothing) and called out to his guards, who had been standing outside.

They grabbed Tanny, who offered no resistance whatsoever, and hauled her back down to the dungeons, where they locked her up, alone in the dark. Her bright blue eyes, which were once so full of life and energy, had dulled into a stormy gray and her expressive face had been replaced by a stony mask of vacancy. Her clothes were in tatters, yet she drew them over her nude body, attempting to cover herself. Blood seeped from numerous wounds all over her body, and bruises had begun to form in the places that Mortiferus had hit her.

At age thirteen, Tanny had been abused in the most horrible way known to mankind, and yet survived. However, there was no more speculations in her mind as to whether or not she would ever be rescued. Just as Mortiferus had stolen her virginity, he had also taken away her hope.

She wanted to die.

* * *

**A/N: **I love this chapter.


	16. Blackmere

Edited for your convenience.

**HitokiriKurisuta - **Don't worry, I think he's sexy too, even if he is pure evil

**sLarkin - **I wish I could put more Evil-lyn/Skeletor love in too. As it is, this story is focusing on Tri-Klops and Jamie more than they, so you'll just have to suffer. Now, I've already written a MASSIVE piece where the both of them bang each other's brains out, to be crude, so you can keep reading that, if you wish. If you don't want to read _that_, then you can stick around and wait out the remainder of the story, where I might be able to add in a bit more. I might even write a one-shot between the two of them after this story is completed, so if you think you can wait for _that_ then give me your email address and I'll be sure to let you know when I'm done with it. It's nice to see another Lyn/Skelly fan out there

**Eva91 - **I'm so glad that you perceived that last chapter that way! I was so afraid that it might be rejected because he was raping Tanny. I'm so happy! Yes, Mortiferus is absolutely evil, but he's already grown on me. I want to develop his character a bit more, so that everyone understands why he is the way he is, and not just some mindless, power-hungry villain.

**The Dark Temptress - **I'm glad you reacted that way to Morty; that was what I was hoping to do with his character. He's going become very unpredictable in the next chapters, so I'll hope you'll be ready for a ride! Dude, I feel for you. I **hate** spiders with a passion. They scare the living daylights out of me.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any characters affiliated with He-man and the Masters of the Universe, I just use them for my own twisted purposes. I do attain my individual rights to Jamie/Reaper, Ailil/Mortiferus, and other characters not recognizable to the He-man universe.

**Warning: This chapter contains adult content that you may not find to your liking. If such is the case, then please skip over the section with the warning. You are, of course, responsible for your own activities.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Blackmere**

* * *

"Not it's not."

"Yes."

"Nuh-uuuuuh."

"Yes, it is."

"Is not!"

"I'm a scientist and a mechanic; I believe that I would know better than you."

"So? That means nothing."

Tri-klops groaned as, once again, Jamie refused to be reasonable. Her chatter hadn't ceased since reaching the Gwlyvos Forest, and it was beginning to try his patience, again. "I don't suppose you could be silent for a few minutes," he stated, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying what he _really _wanted to say.

"Stop trying to change the subject!" Jamie said, annoyed. "You're just mad because I'm right and you're wrong and it bugs the hell out of you!"

_Why me?_ wondered Tri-klops for the thousandth time; this wasn't worth all the aggravation. "I don't have to prove anything to you," he retaliated, a biting tone in his voice. Jamie laughed and ran in front of him.

"Admit it: I'm right and you're wrong."

"Never," he growled. Behind them, Trapjaw was wisely avoiding being sucked into the argument by looking anywhere but at his two cohorts. Tri-klops didn't think that fair; since when had he been in charge of the whelp?

_The moment she ran into you, you idiot._

Great. Bad enough that he had to suffer verbal abuse from Skeletor and Evil-lyn, but now his own inner voice was calling him names! _Traitor,_ he thought back, wishing that he could somehow remove the voice from his mind. "Maybe we should just stop the whole thing," twittered Jamie as she twirled around in the road ahead. "I don't want to damage your ego anymore than I already have."

"So it would seem," muttered Tri-Klops darkly. They had been arguing for a little over two hours on whether or not it was possible for sound waves to be controlled through the use of a synchronized mediator to the point where they could be used as a weapon. Of course it was entirely possible, argued Tri-Klops, but Jamie wasn't convinced. She found it hard to believe that something that she could neither see nor feel could be turned into a destructive force capable of rendering entire mountain sides into rubble based on the mere seismic settings of the arbitrator being used.

Tri-Klops had tried to explain to her the mechanics of such a device, but the information went in one ear and out the other; apparently, there was nothing in between to block traffic. The girl was intelligent, make no mistake about that, but she had no desire to learn about machinery, not unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Why don't we just drop it?" she asked again when he Tri-Klops tried to describe to her the basic design for a sound amplifier.

"I'm simply trying to prove a point to you," he said, not at all perturbed by her obvious lack of interest.

"Well," she huffed, "we both already know that I'm not smart enough to understand your brainy-language, so I think you should give it a rest."

"But I'm enjoying this moment of superiority. It's not often that I can speak so freely without the need to worry about whether or not I'm going to get blasted."

"If you were trying to be funny, I suggest you quit now."

"Why should I?"

Trapjaw, a few paces behind, gave a loud, barking cough that sounded suspiciously like a concealed laugh. He knew only too well what Tri-Klops was alluding to, and he sympathized with his fellow warrior. Having Skeletor for a master was a one-sided, taxing, often abusive relationship. If one said something that he didn't like, or told him something that he didn't want to hear, then said person would most likely be staring at the business end of his Havoc Staff.

"Can we just knock it off?!" laughed Jamie, unable to keep herself from smiling. She certainly had relaxed around the two older warriors, and had allowed herself to enjoy the moment for what it was: a reprieve from chaos. There was nothing to worry about at the time, and they were still a whole three weeks journey away from the Northern Polar Ice Cap. For now, she could afford the luxury of being carefree.

Trapjaw and Tri-Klops shared in this newfound freedom, as brief as it was; soon, they felt, they would be back at Snake Mountain, listening to Skeletor rant about the He-man and his accursed timing. It was a treat to be free of his incessant ravings, even if only for a little while. Trapjaw was looking forward to hitting up one of the many pubs that populated Blackmere, and Tri-Klops was hoping to visit a mechanic; not that he really needed to, of course. It was mere curiosity.

Jamie herself didn't have a specific destination in mind, but delighted in browsing through the marketplace. There were so many fascinating items on display; some were completely exotic from faraway lands while others were imported from the next town over. At any rate, Jamie often found valuable articles there for much less than they would be anywhere else, and most of the things that she bought were extremely helpful in her travels. _Provided that we get out of this alive,_ she thought to herself, _I wouldn't mind shopping around. After all, I _am _a girl!_

"Blackmere isn't that far off," Trapjaw suddenly remarked, his tone light and casual. "We'll reach it in a little under three hours." Jamie sighed in defeat. Despite the possibilities of a shopping spree, she still upheld her doubts about this detour that she had been forced to take; if she had had it her way, they would have cut through the Sands of Time or something. Earlier, she and Tri-Klops had discussed the pros and cons of traveling through Blackmere. The positive side was that it would bring them closer to their destination than if they had continued on the regular route. It was a shortcut, of sorts. On the downside, though, there was a high possibility that Trapjaw and Tri-Klops would be recognized as minions of Skeletor.

If that happened, then the villagers might transmit a help signal to the Defenders, and from there everything would go to hell. Of course, Jamie herself had other, more personal reasons for wanting to avoid Blackmere. Apparently, there was a port there where one could pay the fare to travel to the Berserk Islands. Tri-Klops, being Tri-Klops, had insisted that they take the shortcut, regardless of Jamie's discomfort.

_Besides, _he had thought, _it isn't as if she wants to go back. She's not going to run away or anything._ He couldn't understand why Jamie would be frightened by the knowledge that she had the mere _ability_ to go back to the islands, simply by setting foot onto a boat. The girl had willpower, did she not? It shouldn't have been an issue in his eyes, but it was. Jamie looked as if she'd rather be arguing with a Dragon during mating season. A slight sneer curled the ends of her lips downward and her eyes were narrowed angrily.

"Come on now," he said, trying to ease all the pent-up anger and frustration that he felt radiating off of her. "I thought we had concluded this discussion. Don't tell me you're backing out _now_." His words were meant as a challenge, sort of an "I'm better than you because I can handle the situation and you can't," thing. It was a childish ploy, but he got the reaction he wanted, as Jamie's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

"I'm not!" she said quickly, a blush rising to her cheeks. "I'll go through Blackmere, but don't hold me accountable for anything that I may say or do while there."

"What do you mean?" asked Tri-Klops gruffly, concerned about her ambiguous threat. If he thought that she would jeopardize their mission in any way, shape, or form, he would have no problem with rendering her unconscious for the remainder of the trip. They couldn't risk being caught by the town officials, since it would probably mean a premature end to their mission. Jamie just shrugged and lowered her gaze to the rough ground beneath her feet.

"It's nothing," she mumbled half-heartedly. She probably expected Tri-Klops to drop it there, but it was clear that she had learned nothing from her earlier "discussion" with him. He was not a man to give up so easily. Falling into step right behind her, Tri-Klops quickly grabbed her by her upper arm and twisted her around so that she was chest to chest with him, while her arm was being uncomfortably pulled back, away from her body.

"Ouch!" she cried out, trying to step away from him, which only put more pressure on her arm. She yelped at the sharp pain in her elbow and glared up into Tri-Klops's cold, metal visor. "Take your hands off of me," she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Not until you tell me what's going on inside that head of yours," he replied back firmly, poking her cranium with his forefinger.

Jamie whipped her head out of his range and instinctively raised her free hand to his chest for support. "I don't have to tell you anything, you oaf!" Her green eyes brightened for a moment before she twisted out of his harsh grasp, a pained cry ripping from her throat as she rubbed her sore arm. "If I bruise," she threatened, "you'll never see your beloved workshop again, I swear it."

"Tell me," snapped Tri-Klops, barely glancing over his shoulder as Trapjaw came to stand right behind him.

"Jus' let it go, Trike," the cyborg yawned. "She didn't mean anythin' by it, so jus' drop it. Look, Blackmere ain't much farther; you can work out yer differences once we git to a tavern or somethin'." Jamie and Tri-Klops glared daggers at each other, wondering what kind of evil forces were at work, that they, of all people, should be stuck together.

"I refuse to have anything more to do with him," she enunciated slowly, making sure that both men heard every word as loudly and clearly as possible.

"I was about the say the same about you," snarled Tri-Klops as he stalked off, following the road to Blackmere. Trapjaw rolled his eyes, taking back all the thoughts he had previously had about his two comrades. It seemed that both of them were suffering from a bipolar disorder.

"Y'know," he said cautiously to Jamie, watching Tri-Klops's figure shrink as he moved farther and farther away, "he's only tryin' ta make sure that nothin' bad happens. You should've given 'im a break."

Jamie stopped rubbing her arm and glanced over her shoulder. "He's such a jerk, though! One minute he'll be fine, and the next he's hurting me!" Trapjaw laughed.

"Well," he said, "you weren't exactly the most charmin' person on the face of the planet either! At least he was bein' consistent!"

"He's still a jerk," she insisted stubbornly.

"No more so than you, kid."

Jamie groaned at Trapjaw's obvious words, maddened at the thought that she was behaving just as badly as Tri-Klops. There was no way in all of Eternia that she wanted to be compared to that brainiac at that particular moment in time; she was angry with him. "I just don't feel like arguing with him anymore," she finally sighed.

"No one wants ta argue when there are more important things ta be done," Trapjaw agreed, squeezing her shoulder with his real hand.

Jamie shuddered slightly as Trapjaw took off after Tri-Klops, perhaps to try and calm him down. A slight breeze rustled through the trees lining the dirt road, sending a shiver up Jamie's spine. She had an eerie feeling that she was being watched. It was subtle and well concealed, but the telltale sign of her hair standing on end never failed to warn her. She looked around her, a trained eye scanning all of her surroundings, yet she saw nothing. "I must be going crazy," she mumbled as she took off running, trying to catch up with Tri-Klops and Trapjaw, whom he she couldn't even see anymore. Still, as she hopped over gaping potholes and scattered rocks, Jamie couldn't help but feel as if she were being watched.

* * *

_**!WARNING! - PWP - !WARNING!**_

"Closer, closer my ignorant little ones!" moaned Mortiferus as he observed the trio through the likes of a glass disk. His long fingers danced across his naked torso, tweaking his erect nipples and caressing his abdomen. His skin was enflamed with desire, and there was no around to quench it except for himself.

"Come closer to me and I'll set you free!" he cried out in a sing-song voice. "Closer to me, the freer you'll be, and then we'll see!" The rest of the verse was a strange mixture of vowel-less gibberish and ancient Eternian, a language long-forgotten by the people of today.

Mortiferus allowed his hands to travel lower and lower on his body, now devoid of all the excess muscle that he had exhibited earlier. Lean and supple, Mortiferus had much more feminine figure than Tanny might have realized. But she couldn't be blamed; she had been too entranced by his illusion to notice anything out of the ordinary. In fact, the only thing about the man slumped against the stone wall that even slightly resembled the one that had raped Tanny was the facial structure and its features. Everything else had changed.

The wide shoulders had diminished into delicate ones that gracefully sloped downwards. The muscular chest and abdomen had molded themselves back into the firm, yet slender torso of a young teen, and the arms were like two young saplings: thin and strong.

Mortiferus gasped as his fingers brushed against the more intimate portions of his body, sending a vicious jolt of lust and desire shooting through his body. He closed his eyes, envisioning beneath him the one person whom he most desired. He imagined her lithe body writhing beneath his scorching touch, arching up against his own frame. He imagined her perfectly full lips pleading with him to stop, to leave her alone as he claimed her for his. He imagined threading his fingers through her ivory hair and pulling her head back so that he could bite into her sweet neck.

He could almost see her lime green eyes overflowing with tears as he took her, and he grasped himself with a sharp intake of breath. She aroused him so, yet she herself was unaware of the sexual appeal that she exhibited. He had seen her, all of her, and he wanted it for his own.

His hands began to move faster and faster across his body as he visualized her moaning in passion as she pleasured herself. A familiar pressure began to build up in his loins, like a red hot coil wrapped around his lower intestines. "Aaaahh………" he moaned, slumping further down the wall.

His release was closer than he had anticipated; it astounded him how responsive his body was to her. It wasn't the same with any of the other women that he took to bed, or even the men, for that matter. No one could excite and stir his passions as she could, and he would often have to resort to means of violence in order to arouse himself. But with her………with her it was so different, so amazing! The mere sway of her hips or the flash of a smile would cause his thoughts to jumble together and his ability to think rationally was shattered like a clay pot upon the floor.

She alone was able to reduce him to this, a slavering creature dependent on carnal desires. It was an ethereal creature that enslaved him; she commanded and he would obey. If she instructed him to throw himself off of a cliff, then so be it. She held such power over him that he would give up his life for her.

In his lust for her, he had noticed the attention that she was receiving, and yes, reciprocating, to the swordsman of Snake Mountain. What had his name been? Trimane? Triops? No matter, he was of no importance; soon, he would taste the cold steel of Mortiferus's blade. Mortiferus didn't like it when others touched what rightfully belonged to him. He despised it even more so when she _allowed _others to touch her, when she _knew_ that she belonged to another. How he had hated it when the swordsman had grabbed her! He had no right to treat her like a common wench! It enraged him, infuriated him to the point of breaking. He wanted to capture this swordsman and his insignificant companion and torture them for an eternity for their heinous crimes.

But then, he did have an eternity, didn't he? Wasn't that what he had been cursed with from almost the beginning of his life until the world crumbled beneath his feet? Wasn't that what she also had been doomed to endure as well? Were they not one and the same? Two sides to a coin, a reflection in a mirror. They were the same, yet she didn't know………she didn't know………

He would make her know. He would show her the truth of her existence and she would tremble with the terrible knowledge. She would love him then, as only one fated to live eternally can love another of the same future. She would love him, worship him, and brand him her own………and then there would be no more of the swordsman, no more Snake Mountain, just the two of them, like it was meant to be from the very beginning. It was always meant to be that way, and whether she liked it or not at first, she would learn to accept it. That's the way things were meant to be, he was sure of it.

With a pained gasp, he finally came, liquids seeping over his hands and down the insides of his legs. The force of his release stole the breath from his very lungs, and, weak-kneed, he slumped to the floor. His expression was dazed; he had the look of someone who was currently experiencing a reality far greater than his own, and he never wanted to leave it. His eyes glazed over, to a dull, grayish color, and his mouth hung partially open. She had brought him up one side of the mountain of perfection and had flung him off of the peak, forcing him to endure that which could not be stomached on one's own merit. He needed her, far worse than he had in the beginning.

"She will be mine and she will never know why………," he rambled, making no sense.

"I must bring her to me………how? How shall I do so?"

He inclined his head to the left, as if her were listening to some clandestine voice that no one else could hear. After a moment of silence, he smiled, clapped his hands, and said, "Why yes, you are correct! She'll never even suspect that! Thank you, my dear." Mortiferus made no move to stand up, but instead remained in a heap on the floor, the same stupefied expression as before on his face.

"Mine and mine, not yours or hers, not his, never will be, mine, mine, mine……need her, want her, she's all mine, you'll never have her, so leave her to me and mine alone."

Had someone come across Mortiferus at that moment, they would have surely run away, convinced that he was possessed by some ancient creature from beyond the dark gates of the Nine Hells. Laying there, naked and soaked in his own bodily fluids, speaking in riddles and nonsense, he painted a truly horrifying picture. The maniacal grin that crossed his face was downright demonic, promising nothing but pain and torment. No one with an inkling of intelligence would dare to cross his path a second time after running in to him just once.

"I must draw her to me," Mortiferus murmured softly, finally climbing to his feet. Naked, he stared into the glass disk, rubbing his slick hands together. "A small spell ought to do the trick," he chuckled. His voice turned smooth and seductive, his eyelids fluttered, and a dark smile stole over his plump lips as he began to recite a very strange rhyme:

"_Hear my voice_

_And heed my words._

_Make the choice_

_And join the hordes._

_Enter the crowd_

_And open the gate._

_Don't be proud, _

_But accept your fate._

_Get on the boat_

_And strike out for sea._

_Don't fret; you'll float,_

_As you shall see._

_Go to the land_

_Where you learned your trade._

_Forces are at hand;_

_Into the darkness they fade._

_Find me there;_

_I'll wait for you._

_Enter my lair_

_And be renewed."_

As the last word left his mouth, a strange calm settled over the room, almost as dark and foreboding as its single occupant. All noise ceased to exist; a splattering of water against stone stopped as suddenly as if it had been plugged and the wind outside stopped howling. Even Mortiferus's heart seemed to shut down in time with everything else. There it was: perfect silence. The deranged sorcerer laughed a cruel, cold laugh, delighted in his accomplishment. He laughed for all to hear, for he knew that soon he would be reunited with his dear, estranged sister. He also laughed this secretive laugh because he knew that somewhere, wherever she was, an unusual silence was also settling over the land.

* * *

Jamie tapped her foot against the dusty ground as dozens of people milled around her, oblivious to her presence. They bumped into her, shoved her around unceremoniously, and even pinched her, some in places all too personal for it to be considered an accident. Not one person glanced in her direction, except to mutter a meaningless apology or to growl that she should stand somewhere else. One young man had leered at her, but a well placed glare sent him on his way.

_Men,_ sniffed Jamie as she scanned the crowd for either Trapjaw or Tri-Klops, _they all want the same thing._ When she saw neither member of her little party, her heart sunk to the bottom of her stomach and she sighed wearily. It had been three hours since they had entered the town of Blackmere, and she was already lost. No, not only was she lost, but she had been ditched, maybe not in the traditional sense, and probably not even on purpose, but the fact remained that she had been left to fend on her own.

_I hate them_, she pouted as she looked around. She had no clue where they could have gone, and Tri-Klops had still been angry with her and hadn't told her anything; Trapjaw had probably followed Tri-Klops, thinking that Jamie had still been behind him. The presence of the massive crowd wasn't helping the situation either; it was so noisy that even if she had spotted them, they wouldn't have been able to hear her above the clamor of the people.

_Oh well,_ she thought, a dismal cloud settling upon her shoulders, _I didn't need them anyways; I suppose I can survive on my own for a little while; at least until they find me again. Then they'll be in for it._ Jamie was one hundred percent positive that she would eventually be reunited with her escorts. She had tremendous faith in their abilities, and even more faith in their character. They would not abandon her here. They couldn't afford to, considering that she knew her brother the best, and would be able to help them in bringing him down.

The day wore on, and a few more hours past by with no sign of Jamie being rescued. The crowds had died down somewhat, and an eerie calm had settled over the marketplace. The air was stiflingly hot and mildly humid, a combination which motivated most villagers to go home. Not many could stand this type of torturous weather, including Jamie, who was beginning to feel uncomfortable. When a trickle of sweat rolled down between her shoulder blades, followed by an identical drop between her breasts, Jamie knew that she absolutely had to get out of the blasted sun before she melted altogether.

Spotting an old shed near the wharf, Jamie quickly vaulted the rusty gate that blocked its entrance and gratefully entered its cooling shade. It was a few degrees cooler in the shed, amazingly, and Jamie happily rolled up her pants in order to cool down her legs. She would have taken her boots off as well, but she was still hoping that she wouldn't be staying there too long; Trapjaw and Tri-Klops _had_ to be looking for her right now. She was indeed right, for at that exact moment Tri-Klops had been alerted by Trapjaw about her disappearance and was voicing his displeasure in a slow, steady stream of colorful curses that would've made the most ill-mannered ruffian blush with shame. Jamie didn't know this, however, and continued to enjoy the cool air that she had found.

_It's so much better than outside,_ she mused, closing her eyes and stretching her long legs out. _I can see why everyone's headed towards home._ A bird cried out overhead, its distinct call resembling that of a blue-beaked water skimmer. It wasn't unusual to hear one, especially since they were near the sea, but water skimmers were more inclined to flock near bodies of fresh water, and Jamie knew for a fact that there were some small ponds close by, for she had passed them on the way to Blackmere. Curious as to why a water skimmer was hanging around the sea instead of a pond, Jamie peeked outside the door of the shed, looking for the brilliantly colored creature.

"Creeee-AAAHH!"

The palm-sized bird cried out an alarm as Jamie made her presence known and made a jump for the air, only to plummet back to the ground after just a few feet of flight. As the water skimmer squawked in protest, Jamie noticed that one of its wings was dangling at an unusual angle, as if it were broken. When yet another flight attempt failed, Jamie realized that the poor animal was indeed injured and she immediately moved towards it. Like all injured animals, however, the skimmer interpreted her good intentions for those of harm and scuttled off, flapping its useless wing in a futile effort to take off. Jamie hurried off after the bird, worried that it might have injured itself beyond repair. Although no great animal lover, Jamie still had compassion for the wounded, and would help them if time allowed.

"Come back here, you feathered fool!" she grumbled, not really in the mood to chase down anything. It would've helped if the bird had stayed put; basic animalistic instincts were such a bother at times. The bird continued to hop, skip, and flop its way towards the docks where the fishing boats were kept with Jamie right behind it.

_What is it with birds being so slippery that you can't even grab them?_ she pondered as the skimmer slipped out of her grasp for the fifth time. It chirped in triumph and began heading towards a small dingy outfitted with a large spearhead on the front. "Oh no you don't!" Jamie yelped as she realized what the bird was going to do. She ran as fast as she could towards her quarry, but it was too late; the skimmer had hopped into the boat, followed by Jamie, who performed a perfect tuck-and-roll, but severely bruised her shoulder and ego in the process.

"Stupid bird," she mumbled as she collected herself. Surprisingly, the bird hadn't attempted another escape, but instead stood a few feet from where Jamie had landed, its little head cocked to the side in avid curiosity. Jamie snatched it up in her hand, afraid that it might scurry off before she could get to her feet. Her attention was immediately drawn to the brilliant turquoise color of the skimmer's wings, the bright yellow of its tail feathers, and the silky obsidian of its underside. True to its name, the skimmer's beak was a lovely light blue, almost the same color as the sky. _How can something so small be so beautiful?_ mused Jamie as she observed the striking colors, entranced.

She didn't know for how long she sat in the dingy, but when her thoughts were interrupted by a particularly harsh wave (it spilled over the sides and soaked her tunic) crashed into the boat, the sun had set much lower on the horizon. "Guess we'd better go," she said to the bird, worried now that Tri-Klops and Trapjaw would be absolutely furious with her for being gone for so long. When she stood up, however, she came face to face with what had to be the ugliest man in all of Eternia.

"AAAIIIIEEEE!" she shrieked, falling backwards again. The man grinned, if it could be called that, for it quite simply looked like a large gash cut into his face at a vertical incline, and was filled with dark, mottled, rotting teeth. The man's eyes were small and watery and his skin was sun splotched and pimply. A few strands of greasy brown hair hung to his shoulders, indicating that he didn't frequent the bath house too often. He was short, squat, and round, and in fact only reached Jamie's shoulder, making her look much taller than she really was.

"Oo're yoo?" he asked in a lilting accent. Or maybe he was just drunk. Jamie nevertheless spluttered and again pulled herself onto her feet without answering the man. Her first concern was to get off of the blasted dingy; she hated boats and anything having to do with the sea. Normally, she wouldn't have set foot on one of the sea-faring vessels, but the bird, which she had managed to hang onto during this time, had prompted her to overcome her fears.

"I'm getting off of this _thing_," she said, not daring to look the repulsive little man in the eye.

"No can do, shweethart," he slurred back. "Yoo're on de ship of de great Josee-fus! Ain't no way I'm gonna let yoo go back; you're too pur-tee."

"Thanks," said Jamie. "But I'm sure you can let me go." she coaxed, eyeballing the dangling rope that anchored the boat to the dock. If she could just make it around "Josee-fus", she could hop onto the dock and everything would be fine. "Just move out of my way so I can leave; I have somewhere else that I need to be."

"Where?" he asked, suspicious.

_Anywhere away from you,_ was what she wanted to say, but, "I have an appointment with some friends." is what really came out of her mouth. The man grunted and didn't move.

"Yoore shtayin' 'ere on me ship," he insisted. Jamie gaped.

"This isn't a ship!" she cried, waving her arms for emphasis. "It's barely a boat! It might as well be a floating basket!"

"Yoore not leavin' an' dat's final!" With that, he untied the rope and threw it in the bed of the boat, pushing off of the dock with his foot as he did so.

"No!" yelled Jamie frantically. This couldn't be happening! She couldn't leave like this! It wasn't ethical! Yet another reason to hate Blackmere and its barbaric people.

Suddenly, when it was no more than six feet away from the dock, the dingy came to an abrupt stop, causing its occupants to tumble over. Jamie, after untangling herself with "Josee-fus", jumped up and was delighted to see that Tri-Klops and Trapjaw had finally found her. Trapjaw was leaning over the dock as far as he could with his normal hand grasping a post behind him for support while his mechanical arm had switched to its claw mode and was stretched out as far as it could go over the water; the clamp held the stern of the boat firmly in its grasp and was slowly reeling it back in.

Tri-Klops just looked angry.

"Oops," Jamie whispered sheepishly to herself. This was not gonna be good. The second the back of the boat hit the dock, Jamie leapt out, skimmer still clasped in her hands.

"Y-yoo can't doo dat!" the man stuttered, his watery eyes widened to an impossible size after witnessing Trapjaw's tremendous strength.

"I believe we just did," hissed Tri-Klops dangerously as his arm instinctively snaked around Jamie's shoulders. For her part, Jamie glowered at the ugly little man as best she could while trying to ignore the fact that she was pressed against the very man who caused her emotions to conflict.

"You should be grateful that we let you live," Tri-Klops continued as he turned to leave, pulling Jamie with him.

"'Oo doo yoo t'ink yoo ar', huh?!"

Would no one take the hint? Was it _that_ subtle, that no one could catch it? Obviously so, for this vile little man hadn't been the first to pick up a dead argument, and chances were that he wouldn't be the last. Trapjaw gave the dingy a violent shake, causing him to loose his footing and he landed in the bottom of the boat with a sickening thud. "Yoo can't yank me ship like dat! Leggo!" he yelled from his muffled position. Trapjaw released the boat from his vice-like grip but snatched up its owner. His metal jaw creaked as he whispered something into the man's ear.

Laughing menacingly, the big cyborg dropped the now blubbering fisherman back into his "ship" and joined Tri-Klops and Jamie as they made their way back to the town square. "What did you tell him?" asked Jamie curiously after noticing that "Josee-fus" had quietly returned to the task of casting off.

"I jus' told 'im exactly who we were an' who we worked fer. That's all." Trapjaw erupted into another bout of roaring laughter while Jamie snickered behind her hand. Even Tri-Klops smirked, but the short-lived humor was rudely shoved out of the way to make way for the much more vindictive anger.

"_Where. Were. You_?!" the swordsman rasped, grabbing Jamie by her upper arms and pulling her close. This time, Jamie didn't fight him or give him attitude. Instead, she decided to just answer the man.

"You ditched me."

"We didn't! You're just too slow!"

"_So_ not true. You guys never even waited up for me!"

"At least we came back to find you."

"Maybe so, but you _still_ ditched me."

"What's that?" interjected Trapjaw, peering at Jamie's cupped hands.

"It's a water skimmer," she replied, twisting away from Tri-Klops and allowing Trapjaw to look. "Stupid thing was trying to fly with a broken wing."

"Lemme see it."

Somehow, as the skimmer was making the transition from palm to palm, it managed to break free. Instead of flopping about uselessly, and to the amazement of Jamie, it immediately took off in flight, both wings flapping in perfect unison. Jamie's jaw dropped open as she stared after the bird; she would have sworn upon every god in existence that that skimmer's wing had been broken a few moments ago. Trapjaw shrugged in response to her confused expression. "Guess it was jist stunned or somethin'."

"I guess so………," said Jamie, still looking in the direction that the bird had flown off in. North………_Why north? It's too cold for such a small creature to survive on its own, not to mention the complete lack of lakes and ponds; it'll never survive_………why_ is it flying north then? _

Jamie was all of the sudden yanked out of her reverie by Tri-Klops, who once again took her by the shoulders and gave her a quick shake. "_Where. Have. You. Been_?!" he asked again, enunciating each syllable. Jamie stared into the cold metal of his visor, wondering what prompted the man to worry over her so much. She wondered how he could still find the time to care when he was always so busy with something else. She had learned so much about this man, and yet she found that she still knew too little. She wanted to understand him, and in return she wanted him to understand her back.

She smiled, raising her hand to trace a small white scar that ran across his lower lip. "You worry too much," she whispered shyly, secretly wondering if she had been too forward. A violently crimson blush rose to her cheeks and she lowered her head in embarrassment, her fingers lingering on Tri-Klops's chin. He stared at her for a moment, perhaps silently accepting her unspoken apology that was lingering up in the air. Finally, after what seemed like ages he released her from his grasp and turned away from her, clearing his throat.

"Just………don't do it again," he muttered in relief.

* * *

**A/N:** Better than before.


	17. Evil Awakens

Edited for your enjoyment, so be joyful.

**HitokiriKurisuta - **Yup, it's April 14th I'm so happy! It's, like, my child; I treat it like one too, it's so pathetic.

**Slarkin - **Thanks for the review! I'll certainly do my best to make room for one more Evil-lyn/Skeletor moment, but it'll be more towards the end, and I'm afraid it won't be very, _ahem_, interesting, if you catch my drift. And yes, I prefer the dark characters as opposed to the good guys. They're more fun. Generally, I try to update as often as possible, but I can't help it if I'm not able to write. My muse is very demanding, and he has standards for each chapter. Just be patient and the chapters will get out; I promise that I won't abandon this story.

**The Dark Temptress - **MUAHAHAHAHAHA! I love it when people are drawn in by the unknown! All in good time, my love, all in good time. I assure you that you'll be pleased. Thank you for the lovely comment! And yes, spiders deserve to burn in hell. Around where I live, they're about as big as your open hand. Pretty nasty.

**Disclaimer:** Same as the last one.

**Warning: This chapter contains adult content that you may not find to your liking. If such is the case, then please skip over the section with the warning. You are, of course, responsible for your own activities.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Evil Awakens**

_**

* * *

**_

__

!WARNING! - PWP - !WARNING!

"Faster," Mortiferus murmured serenely, speaking to the man kneeled in between his legs. A quick glance was sent in his direction before his command was obeyed, a small detail that sent a shiver of anger sliding up Mortiferus' spine. He didn't like delays, especially when they preceded his orders. However, he couldn't very well be angry at Jädian; it wouldn't serve his better interests.

It was natural to have people fear him, so why try to discontinue part of nature? If that was how things worked, then who was he to try and reorder the universe? Mortiferus leaned back in his throne, content to watch the man's head bob up and down in between his thighs. Jädian had been quite the find; with his wispy, blood-red hair and his golden, almond-shaped eyes outlined with kohl he certainly was one of the more exotic specimens that Mortiferus owned. At thirty-three, he was also one of the oldest. All of the elders had died out a few years before due to an illness of the lungs and the merciless cold.

It was a pity really, since Mortiferus had practically raised them from children. _Oh well,_ he thought languidly, stroking Jädian's smooth cheek, _I have an eternity to raise more._ He twirled a strand of uniquely colored hair around his finger, noting its feathery soft texture and wondering if he had the energy left in his body to do more than just sit around being pleasured. Surely he could think of a more………productive way to spend his time. Curiously, he attempted to move his hips forward a bit but the small effort cost him more energy than he would have expected or admitted.

"Dammit………," he muttered tiredly.

He knew the reason for his exhaustion and since it was for such a good cause he would endure it for the time being. The spell that he had woven was draining him of his magical powers, not because of its complexity, but because of its lack of proximity. Since the subject of the spell was so far away, he had to exert more energy than usual to make sure that it was properly effective. A weak spell was as good as no spell, a lesson which he had learned through a series of trial and error. Unfortunately, one of the side effects of using too much of one's power in one go was the inability to concentrate on anything else. For instance, Mortiferus would have liked nothing more than to activate his all-seeing disc so that he could observe all that was going on, but that wasn't possible in his current state. He would have to wait the spell out the hard way.

"_Surely _you can be more inventive than _that_," Mortiferus drawled, tugging sharply on the hair that he held in his hand. Piercing golden eyes met cold-hearted blue as Jädian looked to his master for further instruction, but when he received nothing more than an arched eyebrow he took it upon himself to be more "inventive" as it had been termed. Climbing up into the other man's lap, Jädian took Mortiferus' face in his hands and roughly kissed him on the mouth. His hands slid down to slender shoulders and then lower until he was finally cradling Mortiferus' erection in his hands. Jädian's fingers worked slowly, skillfully wrenching a satisfied gasp from the darker man's lips.

As he worked with his hands, Jädian used his mouth to kiss, lick, and bite at every inch of skin that he could reach. At one point, his hand reached up to entangle itself in waist-length, ebony hair, pulling Mortiferus closer. "A very nice improvisation. Bold," complemented the dark sorcerer huskily, breaking the harsh kiss as he felt a climax coming on.

"I'd say that you've done well for yourself." Jädian nodded in appreciation of his lord's comment and then rashly attacked his exposed neck, eliciting a sharp groan from Mortiferus. Suddenly, just as he felt himself being pushed over that edge that he lived his twisted life on, Mortiferus noticed something strange. His connection to the spell was beginning to weaken, as if something was interfering with it.

"What in blazes………?" he mumbled as Jädian sucked on his nipple. He ruthlessly shoved his servant away, roughly sending him to the stone floor as his magical link grew more and more faint. Suddenly, with a terrible, almost audible **SNAP! **the sensation was gone, replaced by a feeling of something that had been lost. As he felt his expended energy flowing back into him, he realized what had happened.

"AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!"

Mortiferus snarled fiercely, like a wounded animal. The first thing his clenched fist came in contact with was Jädian's face, and he was sent flying back into a wall. Mortiferus' claw-like nails gouged long gashes in his own pale skin as he extracted his fury on himself. How could this have happened?! He had been _so _close! It had been going smoothly, and then all of the sudden it had come crashing down around him! Never before had such a perfect opportunity arisen, and never again would he be able to seize such a moment.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!" he howled again, pulling at his long, unruly hair. Sweat and blood was running off of his body in rivulets, spattering on the floor beneath him, but he neither noticed nor cared. "Why………?!" he muttered raggedly as he fell to his knees, beating the stony floor with his fists.

"_Why_ did my spell fail?"

The more he thought about, the more an answer eluded him, and the more infuriated he grew. _What _had gone wrong? It had nothing to do with the spell itself; he held no misconceptions about that. All of his incantations were perfect, counterable only by a degree of magic higher than his own, which was a virtually impossible feat.

"_What_ could have happened? _How_ could I have failed?" he questioned himself hoarsely. Mortiferus searched through his twisted mind, looking for the one piece of the puzzle that was missing. There was a point that wasn't there, a small detail that he couldn't see, and it enraged him.

"Why………"

Suddenly, he stopped. Something flickered in his eyes, processing some information that he had just realized upon. His head leaned into a tilt as he considered before a well-rounded sneer formed on his face. It had come to him; he was asking the wrong questions. It wasn't what, when, or why. No………

"_Who_ did this?" was the key question that he should've been asking.

"Who………?" he breathed silkily, rising up to his knees and looking at Jädian, who was cowering in a corner. "Who ruined _everything_?" Unbidden, an image floated to the surface of his muddle mind. A picture so clear, so _obvious_ that it was a wonder that he didn't think of it before.

"You'll pay for this!" he shouted, clutching his forehead as the smirking visage of the swordsman danced in and out of focus. Blood seeped through his long fingers as the skin broke under the pressure of his sharp nails. It ran down his straight nose and into the corner of his mouth, where he lapped it up like a thirst-starved tramp.

"He must die………," he murmured calmly, bringing his hand down to his mouth where he could lick away the coppery fluid that coated his fingers.

"You'll pay for this………," he repeated, "you'll most definitely pay."

Jädian swallowed, wondering what his master was ranting about. Whatever it was, it didn't sound positive. It hadn't felt positive either; one moment Jädian had been crouching in his master's lap and the next he had been sprawled out on the floor. One couldn't blame him for being confused. He also felt a twinge of fear at being in the same room as Mortiferus while he was like this. It wasn't the first time that the lord of the castle had exhibited such strange behaviors, but it was the first time that Jädian had witnessed them first hand. He was at a loss for what to do; even if he _had_ a choice laid out for him, he very much doubted that he would act upon it. Sometimes no course of action is the best course of action.

All the same, Jädian wished that he could do something. Mortiferus was cruel, evil, and dangerous, but he demanded a sort of loyalty from Jädian that the other prisoners couldn't fathom. He didn't understand it himself, but he just couldn't ignore the response that his master incited from him. One could almost say that the two were emotionally attached to each other. Jädian received privileges that the others would never even know of, and he was trusted with some of Mortiferus' darker secrets. He was allowed to roam the castle at will, as long as he didn't try to escape, and eat the finest food available. The guards left him alone and he even had his own room in the castle, even if it was just a simple servant's quarters. In return, Jädian tended to Mortiferus' every need, night and day, year in and year out.

It was an equally beneficial relationship, although Mortiferus seemed to have the better end of the deal. Not only could he bend Jädian to his will, but he could also bend him into other positions. Surprisingly, Jädian had never once objected or tried to fight off Mortiferus' sexual advances. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it. He would even participate from time to time. Mostly though, he enjoyed pleasuring his lord; nothing gave him more joy than knowing that he alone had seen to his master's satisfaction. It was a twisted relationship, to be sure, but it worked.

"Jädian………," groaned Mortiferus, stretching out a bloodied palm. "_Come here_."

Obediently, Jädian began to move towards his master on his hands and knees, a look of wariness present in his clever eyes. He was unsure about what Mortiferus wanted with him, but he couldn't disobey. The second he was within arm's reach, Mortiferus grabbed the red-head by the throat and pulled him down to the ground.

"You have no idea what's happening, do you, my little whore?"

Jädian gasped for air, shaking his head "no" as best he could with his neck in a vice-like grip.

"That's a pity," remarked Mortiferus casually, forcing his servant onto his stomach. "You must be so confused, whore. Shall I tell you what I'm angry about?"

Again, Jädian shook his head "no". He wanted no part of whatever his master was offering.

"It doesn't matter," Mortiferus growled, "I'm going to tell you anyways." He willed the black pants that covered Jädian's lower half to disappear completely and licked a path from the man's shoulder to his earlobe. "It all started many, _many_ years ago………," he whispered huskily, while coldly entering Jädian without warning or preparation. Jädian bared his teeth and hissed at the savage pain, but didn't attempt to escape; he just lay on his stomach, clutching futilely at the stone floor and groaning in agony. As Mortiferus raped him, he related his entire story, starting from his birth and ending with the spell that had just been disrupted. He spared no details, drawing out both his torture and his explanation at the same time. It was the very first time he had ever confided (if what he was doing could ever be called something so docile) to someone of his past. The first and the last.

"So you can _see_," he finally grunted, slashing Jädian's back with his sharp nails, "I have to think of _something_ else, otherwise I'll lose her _again_!" Jädian could do nothing more than sob. His whole body felt like it was on fire! This pain was foreign to him, for he had never been mistreated by his master in such a manner. It was another part of their unspoken pact: Mortiferus wouldn't harm him in bed, just as long as Jädian did what was expected of him. Of course, their couplings had always been slightly painful, that was inevitable, but it hadn't ever hurt like this.

_Never _like this.

This betrayal was something new, something that Jädian didn't like and cared not to experience again, ever. "Uungh!" he cried out at a particularly ruthless thrust. Jädian wished that Mortiferus would simply remove the entire lower half of his ravaged body when finished, for he didn't think that he would be able to stand this pain for much longer. It hurt so terribly that he could barely even _feel_ the pain; his body was numbing up, rejecting what was happening to it. It was a natural reflex to any sort of pain. The nerves deadened and the veins contracted in order to restrict the blood flow after the initial surge to the damaged area. _Make it stop!_ he thought, hoping that the gods heard him. Maybe they would put a stop to this madness, and end his torment.

_Please, please, please, pleasepleasepleasePLEASE! _his mind screamed. Tears coursed down his face, carrying with them the black kohl that he had used to outline his eyes with. The effect was almost haunting; he looked like a ghoul. "Arrgghhh!" he moaned through grit teeth. _Gods, help me_………,he thought dimly, like a flame flickering in the wind. _Anyone_………_help_………_please_………

But then, Jädian remembered. He remembered that the only god around was Mortiferus. The only god who could ever hear his silent pleas; the only god who would ever answer them. Within the stone walls of the castle, there was no higher power than Mortiferus. He _was _a god in his domain. Jädian sobbed harder as he realized that he was trapped within the clutches of an insane deity, one who lusted after blood and sex like they were water and food. It was most likely that he would meet his death here, on the stone floor where so many others had before him. It was inevitable.

Suddenly, as if a change had come over his mind, Mortiferus pulled out of his servant and flipped him onto his back. "I_ need_ that girl, do you understand me?" hissed the crazed sorcerer.

Jädian nodded, his eyes wide with terror.

"You will bring her to me when the time permits."

Jädian nodded again. It was not a request. Mortiferus smirked devilishly before getting to his feet. "And another thing," he said before leaving the room, "if you fail me, I _will_ kill you."

Jädian lay on the blood-stained floor for quite some time after Mortiferus had retired to his room, partially in contemplation and partially due to the immobilizing pain that was still coursing throughout his nerves. He was no fool, and would not take Mortiferus' words lightly; they were the be all and end all, leaving no doubt in Jädian's mind that if he didn't obey them, he would die.

After all, Mortiferus was a man of his word.

* * *

The atmosphere of the tavern was heavy, full of the euphoria of drunken laughter and high spirits. The aroma was just as intoxicating, reeking of smoke, alcohol, and sex. Barmaids and serving girls smiled coyly and flirted with the customers while rakish scoundrels laughed at lewd jokes about women. Every booth was filled, every stool taken, and every table occupied. The bartender was running back and forth behind his counter, mixing drinks and filling mugs for the serving girls to deliver to their respectful owners.

Like most taverns, the one in Blackmere demanded respect and tolerance for all of its patrons, including those from the Dark Continent, although it was often hard to tell one ruffian from the next. This was one of the main reasons why Tri-Klops felt secure about their current location. A pub inspired a certain amount of anonymity that couldn't be overridden by demand alone. Here, people were able to keep their secrets without fear of being subjected to interrogations, and they could move about freely. Logically, a tavern was the ideal location to acquire food and accommodations.

Unless, of course, one is traveling with a certain loudmouth who didn't know when to call it quits.

"That's gross," said Jamie snidely as Trapjaw drained his third mug of ale. The petite girl, having just been rescued from a boat bound for who-knew-where, wasn't taking too kindly to being hauled into the nearest tavern. It was her first time in one, and the way she saw it, her only time.

"Tain't none of yer business," the cyborg replied calmly. He was tired and the idea of spending the night at the tavern inn was sounding better and better as the night progressed. As it was, he wasn't really in an entertaining mood, especially not if it dealt with Jamie's mouth.

"An' stop bein' all more-righteous-than-thou," he continued to grumble. "Yer makin' me feel like an idiot."

"Maybe that's because you _are_ an idiot."

"I must be, if I keep listenin' t' _you_."

Tri-Klops very nearly snorted into his own drink, but managed to compose himself at the last minute. Contrary to his nature, he was feeling quite amiable, having already consumed four flagons. It was nowhere near enough to inebriate him, but it _was _enough to make him relaxed and conversational. This reaction was one of the main reasons that Tri-Klops refrained from too much ale; he had a reputation to keep up, after all.

As Jamie and Trapjaw squabbled, Tri-Klops did his best to appear uninterested and aloof, but the truth was that he secretly enjoyed watching the arguments that passed between them. The only thing that was better than winning a verbal joust with Jamie was watching _others_ win verbal jousts with Jamie. "Whatever," the girl finally muttered, changing the subject from her own embarrassment to something a bit safer; in this case, ale. "Why do you drink that stuff anyways? It smells awful."

Trapjaw set down his empty flagon and looked thoughtful, or as thoughtful as a cyborg with a bottom jaw molded out of metal could look. "Well," he said after a few seconds of contemplation, "I s'pose I drink 'cause I can."

"But it smells nasty!"

"Doesn't mean that it tastes the same way, y'know. Have ya ever tried it? Ya might be surprised."

Jamie glared at Trapjaw, but she knew that he was right in what he said. There was only one thing she could do to save face: quickly motioning one of the serving girls over, Jamie asked for a standard mug of ale. The girl nodded and disappeared, only to return in less than a minute with the requested drink. "Thanks," Jamie said softly, peering at the honey-colored liquid.

"No problem, darlin'," cooed the maid before giving Trapjaw a sly wink. He grinned back and gave her well-rounded rump a sharp pinch when she turned to leave.

"Lecherous old man," said Jamie, still staring into her mug.

"I ain't old!" laughed Trapjaw. "Jist drink it," he added, noticing her hesitation. "Ya might like it."

Cautiously, Jamie lifted the flagon to her nose and sniffed, a look of absolute disgust wrinkling her nose. For a moment it almost seemed as if she would back down, but she steeled herself and took a long sip. The instant the drink touched upon her tongue a sharp burning sensation shot through her nerves. Her throat constricted and she gagged at the unfamiliar taste but continued to drink, intent on showing Trapjaw up. The liquid tingled and warmed every inch of her being, and even though it had burned a bit going down her throat (indeed, it was _still_ burning), the feeling that she received was delightful. The taste in itself wasn't too bad either; slightly bitter, but not terribly so, and blended with a curiously sweet mixture, one which Jamie couldn't identify.

"Wow," she said as her skin flushed from the internal glow. Never before had any form of sustenance made her feel like that! It was like there was a small fire burning inside of her and it just kept growing and growing until it consumed her entire body!

"Toldja," said Trapjaw, smiling widely. Jamie ignored him and took another gulp, quickly finishing the entire mug off. A foolish action, considering that she had yet to discover the limits of her level of tolerance. It was highly probable that she would end up drunk and/or passed out. _She's gonna regret it,_ thought Trapjaw bemusedly.

"That was a quick change of mind," said Tri-Klops, smirking mockingly. He too was thinking of the after effects that the drink would have on Jamie, though he felt a bit more trepidation for the matter. He wondered if he should try to stop her from drinking anymore of the mind-numbing liquid, but his plans were disrupted when Jamie decided to find out for herself how much liquor she could hold.

"Shuddup," she said, standing up and pushing her chair under the table.

"Where're _you_ goin'?" asked Trapjaw.

"To get another drink," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"That might not be a good idea," cautioned Tri-Klops. Jamie's cheeks were tinged pink and her eyes were unfocused. Her balance was off as well, easily seen by the way she gripped the back of the chair for support. Tri-Klops shared a concerned glance with Trapjaw; if just _one_ glass had that effect on her, how much worse would two or three have?

"It's a perfect idea," she growled, swaying slightly. "After all, I was just nearly kidnapped. I _deserve_ to drink. Just sit here and I'll be back………eventually." The two men watched her as she made her way to the counter where she grabbed a stool and took up residence; the empty space in front of her was quickly filled with a new mug, brimming with warm, golden ale.

"Ya can't say that she don't learn fast," chuckled Trapjaw, nudging Tri-Klops in the ribs.

"Mmhmm," was all the reply he received.

"What's wrong now?" asked Trapjaw exasperatedly. "If she wants t' go on an' git drunk, then let 'er! It might teach 'er a lesson." Tri-Klops simply nodded and continued to watch her every movement. He followed every lift of her arm, every tilt of her head, and every shift of her slight shoulders. Had he been asked, he most likely would've attested that he was merely looking out for her safety; after all, a pub is really no place for a young girl. The truth was, in his partially drugged state, he was beginning to think of her as more than an annoying little girl. He was seeing her as a woman, the way his body had seen her and reacted accordingly. Trapjaw groaned, realizing what it was that his three-eyed companion was so quiet about.

"Look," he said, giving the swordsman a shove, "jist go over there an' talk with 'er!"

"No!" exclaimed Tri-Klops angrily, snapping out of his self-induced trance. "She's practically drunk! It'd be no better than rape!" Trapjaw rolled his eyes.

"I never said that ya had t' go an' _sleep _with 'er! I jist said that ya should _talk_ with 'er!"

'What difference would it make?" asked Tri-Klops bitterly.

"Gods," muttered Trapjaw, again rolling his eyes towards the heavens, "what will it _take _t' git ya t' spend some time with 'er?! Y'know she likes you, you can't deny _that_."

"She doesn't know what she wants."

"Oh really? Since when do _you_ git t' decide what she wants?"

**BAM!**

Tri-Klops slammed his fist on the table, attracting some curious glances from a few of the other patrons. "_It's not that simple!_" he whispered fiercely. "You wouldn't understand………"

"I never took ya fer a coward, Tri-Klops, but this is jist ridiculous."

"What're you talking about?"

"I'm talkin' about that girl over there!" he half yelled, pointing incriminatingly at Jamie, who, thankfully, still had her back turned to them. "Ya don't git it, do ya?! Come on, Trike, be a man an' go talk with 'er! It'll make 'er happy at the least." Tri-Klops snorted.

"Since when _you_ know anything about _talking _to women? I'd always assumed you were too busy with _other_ things."

Trapjaw fell mute as a murderous glow lit up his eyes, but even he wasn't fool enough to start something in a crowded tavern.

He laughed begrudgingly after assessing his situation, saying, "I guess ya got me there. Yer right, I ain't one t' talk, but I know what I'm sayin' so ya better pay attention: that girl wants ya, an' I know that ya want 'er back. My advice? Don't let yer pride, or whatever it is that's holdin' ya back, get in the way."

"Always the theoretical one, eh?" asked Tri-Klops. "It's a whole new side to you, Trapjaw, and I have to admit that I'm surprised. Who'd have ever thought that you'd turn out to be a _philosopher_, of all things?"

"Stop tryin' t'change the subject on me! Go talk t' 'er!"

"If I do," said Tri-Klops tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose and wishing that he could remove his headgear, "will you promise to leave me alone and shut up?"

"I can't promise anythin' in the future, but fer tonight, yeah, I can do that."

"Good, why don't you start now?"

His mind made up, Tri-Klops got to his feet and began to make his way over to the counter where the drinks were made. The crowd was pushing him, closing in from all sides, but he patiently battled through the throng, wondering if it would be a bad call to just blast them out of his way. Sweat dripped off of his chin from the combined body heat of at least one hundred people. Possibly more, considering the popularity of the pub.

_I feel like a fool,_ he said to himself as he skirted around one of the serving girls. _I can't even remember the last time I made advances on a woman. I must be going soft; there's no hope for it now._ A man in front of him shifted, allowing him to catch a glance of glowing white hair. _I've gone soft,_ he decided firmly as he noticed his quick change of heartbeat. _Damn it all, this is **exactly** what I was afraid would happen!_ Still, he continued to make his way over to Jamie, hoping that he could make sense of himself before she did.

"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!"

"OH MY GOD!"

"AAAAIIIIEEEEE!"

All thoughts of Jamie and the problems that she presented were immediately driven away from Tri-Klops' mind as people began to scream and panic. There was a sudden surge away from the counter as yet another scream pierced the air, cut short by what sounded like the swinging of a sword. "Trike!" shouted Trapjaw over the din; he had been driven into a corner by the other customers and had no way of getting out without hurting innocent people. Then again, it had never bothered Trapjaw before.

With a symphony of whirring gears and the screeching of metal grinding against metal his bionic arm transformed itself into the giant claw that he was so fond of. As the people crowded around him began to realize what was happening, they too went into hysterics. "Sorry 'bout this," apologized Trapjaw, not really looking sorry at all. With that, he swung his enormous mechanical arm sideways, taking out about ten people all at once.

Back in the center of the room, Tri-Klops was finally able to see what all the commotion was about. Dead upon the floor lay three older men and one of the serving girls. One of the men had been completely decapitated while the other two and the girl had been gutted; their warm intestines pooled out on the floor, looking very much like a nest of slippery snakes. Tri-Klops wrinkled his nose in disgust and looked up to stare into the eyes of the perpetrator. Very familiarly shaped eyes, for that matter. "Jamie?!" gasped Tri-Klops incredulously.

"_No,_" she hissed, baring her teeth at him, "_Reaper._"

Confused now more than ever, Tri-Klops drew a defensive stance, withdrawing his sword from its sheath as he did so. "What's wrong with you?!" he shouted. "What're you doing?!"

Jamie held a magnificently crafted long-sword in both of her hands. Its blade was dripping with crimson blood, a silent testimony to what had just happened. Its handle was bound in black leather to keep her hands from chafing, and miniscule designs riddled the part of the hilt that connected with the blade. Jamie herself had taken on a completely different appearance as well. Not physically, as some would have assumed, but it was more of a change in attitude. Her stance was one of defiance and daring, having lost all the timidity that she had possessed earlier. The smirk that her lips held was more mocking than anything that Evil-lyn could've produced, and her eyes flashed with a murderous rage.

Her eyes………her brilliant green eyes had changed into a glowing white; only the pupil was left visible.

"Jamie………," growled Tri-Klops angrily. What the hell did she think she was doing?! Killing innocent people was the perfect way to get themselves caught, and they didn't have time for that! Not to mention that Skeletor would have a conniption fit when he found out that they had failed.

"Jamie, put that away right now! We're leaving!"

"_No!_" she hissed again in an oddly scratchy voice. "_You can't make me do anything!_" She swung at him then, catching him completely off guard and cutting open his forearm.

"AARRGGHH!" he yelled, more in shock than in pain; the attack had been fast, far faster than he had expected. Something was wrong.

"Jamie!" he shouted. "Don't make me hurt you!"

"_Do it!_" she taunted gleefully. "_Go on, hurt me! Slice me open and make me bleed! Come on! Come on! Come on! You know you want to!_"

"What the hell………," questioned a newly arrived Trapjaw. He had single-handedly (literally) cleared out most of the pub, leaving a trail of bodies behind him. He now stood ready to fight alongside Tri-Klops, but the sight of Jamie wielding the long-sword had clearly thrown him off. "What the hell's goin' on here?!" he shouted, dropping into a low fighting stance.

"Wish I could tell you," muttered Tri-Klops, clutching his arm.

"_Is that all it takes to bring you down?_" sneered Jamie. "_How pathetic._"

"Jamie!" shouted Tri-Klops again. "What's gotten into you?!" She laughed at him.

"_It's not what's gotten in,_" she cooed in a false sweet tone, "_it's what's gotten out!_" She flew at the two men, swinging her sword across in a powerful sideswipe. Tri-Klops managed to duck before it connected with his side, but Trapjaw caught part of it in the stomach as he tried to jump back.

"Shit!" he cursed angrily, pressing a hand to his wound. "What was that for?!" Jamie's blade flashed as she thrust upwards, catching Trapjaw's shoulder. He roared in pain as the blade sunk halfway through, cutting into his bicep.

"_That's for being stupid,_" she cackled insanely, hopping out of the cyborg's range.

She began turning a series of flips around the room, avoiding pieces of shattered glass and splintered wood like they weren't even there. Before Tri-Klops knew what was happening, she was behind him, cutting into his thigh with that enormous sword of hers. "Argh!" he yelled, again surprised by the speed of her attack. He fell to one knee, his sword clattering from his hand onto the wooden floor. He hated to admit it, but at the rate that this was going, both he and Trapjaw would both be dead before they had even gotten the chance to attack.

Jamie laughed again, making the hairs on the back of Tri-Klops' neck stand up. "_Get out of here before I kill you both,_" she threatened, waving her hand in a shoo-shoo manner.

"Alright," growled Trapjaw, "now she's pissin' me off. Can I kill 'er?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We still have a job to do, remember?"

"Says you."

"_Go on,_" interrupted Jamie. "_Why not? Let 'im try to kill me; I doubt that he'd manage to inflict any _real _damage._" Again she attacked, this time from above, swinging her sword downward in a slice. Trapjaw and Tri-Klops dodged the blow in opposite directions, and when Jamie turned to try and catch Trapjaw in another sideswipe, Tri-Klops smashed the hilt of his sword, which he had managed to retrieve in his roll, over her head; Trapjaw simultaneously planted his fist into her gut. Jamie gave a pained cry and then fell to the floor on all fours, retching. Tri-Klops hit her again, knocking her out cold. She slumped over, falling into the bloody mess that was all over the floor.

"That's jist great!" ranted Trapjaw, still holding onto his injured side. "What the fuck are we gonna tell Skeletor now?!"

"Shut up and help me get her out of here," Tri-Klops said strictly, picking Jamie up and carrying her around the counter. There was a back door there, and Tri-Klops really didn't feel like facing the mob that was sure to be waiting for them out front.

"Hurry," he said, jerking his head in the direction of Jamie's sword, which Trapjaw picked up and hastily joined Tri-Klops. They made it through the rest of the town without attracting attention; everyone had gone to the tavern to gather the four bodies and organize a search party. By the time that they were ready to go, the culprits were far away.

* * *

The next morning brought with it a sense of false cheerfulness. The birds sang, but their tunes held no depth; the sun shone, but its rays held no warmth; the trees gave shade, but no real comfort. It was as if nature knew of what had happened last night and was drawing away from Jamie, so as not to taint itself with her evil.

Evil………

What Trapjaw and Tri-Klops had encountered in the tavern was _not_ Jamie. It had looked like her, had inhabited her body, but it wasn't her. There was an evil aura that had surrounded her, much like the one that naturally surrounds Snake Mountain. Tri-Klops couldn't explain it, and Trapjaw couldn't piece together all his murmured speculations, so there was nothing to do but wait for Jamie to wake up. She had slept soundly throughout the remainder of the night, curled up in Tri-Klops' arms; he had been reluctant to let her go, since there was still a chance that she might try to escape. When she did at last open her eyes, they were her usual, unique green instead of the ghastly, peculiar white that they were before.

She blinked a few times, gathering her senses and noting her surroundings. "Ohhhh………," she moaned pathetically, raising her hand to her eyes to shield herself from the light of the sun.

"Elders………my 'ead feels like 's gon' 'splode………wha' 'appened?" Judging from her slurred speech, it was quite clear that she did indeed drink too much. Tri-Klops nevertheless tightened his hold on her, fearful that she might attack. It was this slight movement that alerted Jamie to her current position.

"Le'go o' me, _now_," she said weakly, while her body bristled with unshed tension.

"I can't do that," said Tri-Klops, bracing himself for whatever was to come next.

"Not 'til we git some answers," agreed Trapjaw, who was half hoping that Jamie did something stupid, just so he could beat her up. Both men were still sore from their fight with Jamie, and while neither had accumulated too serious of wounds, they were still in pain. Thankfully, the worst of the damage was the puncture on Trapjaw's shoulder, but that too had already begun to scab over with scar tissue.

"An'sers t' _what_?" said Jamie, beginning to struggle.

"Answers to what the hell was wrong with ya last night!" shouted Trapjaw, getting angry again.

"Whatcha talkin' 'bout?" cried Jamie, wincing at the sharp pain in her head.

"Shut up!" shouted Tri-Klops as he avoided a slap. "We can deal with this like rational adults, can we not?" Trapjaw gave Tri-Klops a look that said, "I'll kill her if she does anything' funny," but nodded begrudgingly and sat down. Jamie nodded her acquiescence as well, but that did nothing to stop her from trying to get loose of Tri-Klops' vice-like grip. She wriggled around in his arms, attempting to find an opening where she could slip out.

"Jamie," asked the swordsman, dodging a wild swing, "you killed four people last night; why?"

"Huh?"

"You killed four people at the bar; three men and a serving girl. Why?"

A silence as quiet and as cold as death passed between the trio as Jamie quit moving in astonishment. Tri-Klops felt the all the tension in her body suddenly drain away, as if it had just been removed. She sagged forward a bit, no longer resisting Tri-Klops' hold on her. In fact, she clutched at his hand, grabbing three of his fingers and squeezing tightly.

She went through several different emotions then, all of them written on her face as clearly as if they had been on paper. First came the initial shock of being accused of such a thing; her eyes angered and her lips pressed tightly together as she repeated the words to herself. Then came the denial, in which Jamie sneered at the ridiculousness of such a thing. This was followed by am attempt to comprehend what had happened, and her eyebrows knitted together as she mulled over the possibilities. Finally, realization dawned on her face as she understood what had taken place and she gasped. "_No_………!" she moaned, burying her head against Tri-Klops' shoulder.

"'No'?" repeated Trapjaw. "What d'ya mean by _that_?" Jamie lapsed back into silence, a haunted look entering her eyes. It was as if she was seeing something visible only to her, something more horrifying and despicable than anything else in the world.

"Jamie," encouraged Tri-Klops, "what happened? Tell me."

"No," she whispered, her voice cracking, "'s too awful."

"Jamie," he pressed urgently, "we need to know what went wrong with you; I don't want to have to kill you later on just because I wasn't aware of something important."

"Would too," she laughed hollowly. "Kill me, I mean. 'N I'd d'serve it."

"Can we quit with the vague references an' cut t' the actual point?" asked Trapjaw. He wasn't used to drawn out explanations like this; Skeletor had always been one to tell everyone everything as quick as possible, mainly so that they could hurry up and carry out with whatever plan that he had thought up. Jamie heaved a long sigh, one that seemed entirely too large for her small frame. Resignation set into her features and she gave a small half sob.

"'Member when I told Skel'tor 'bout my past?" she started. "'Member the bit 'bout where I was born?" Both men nodded, urging her to continue.

"Well, 'member 'ow I said that the dark magic on the island 'nfluenced my behavior, 'n I'd go inta rages at times? Whatcha saw was one o' them, a bloo'lust."

"'Bloodlust'?" questioned Trapjaw. "What's that? What does it do?"

"Yeah, I kinda give 'n t' my rage. They're few 'n far 'n between, 'n are brought 'bout when I'm really angry or hurt."

"What brought it on _this_ time?" Tri-Klops pressed, frowning.

"Some dirty ol' man touched me wrong." Jamie began to shake uncontrollably at this point, as if she had come down with an chilling illness. Her teeth practically rattled as they clicked together and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block something out of her mind. She leaned into Tri-Klops even more, unaware of her proximity to him, or aware and not caring.

"'S like………I don't know 'ow else t' explain it," she whispered, continuing on with the details, "other than a spilt person'lity. Sometin' else awakens 'side o' me 'n jus' takes o'er, like a possession. I don't really know what it is. My Father couldn't tell me, 'n I'd ne'er really understood it. I'm completely unaware o' what I do during a bloo'lust, and I'll e'en kill those who are close t' me wit'out a thought. There are two ways t' bring me out o' it: one 's t' jus' let me kill until I'm satisfied, 'n the second way 's t' jus' knock me out."

"We got that part," said Tri-Klops, smirking half-heartedly. "Is there anyway to tell when you're about to go into a bloodlust?"

"I dunno know," admitted Jamie sadly. "I've been told by both o' my parents that my eyes glow 'n I get 'n attitude, but other than that I 'ave no clue." Trapjaw and Tri-Klops looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. They both knew that while it would be dangerous to get Jamie worked up again, they still had a job to do. Duty came first, above everything else. Failure was not an option, and neither man had the desire to face Skeletor if they did. It would be the same as sentencing themselves to death.

"Jamie," said Tri-Klops, giving the girl in his arms a quick shake, "we need to get going."

"I'm a 'orrid person!" she said shakily, beginning to sob. "I didn't tell ya an' I killed people! I would've killed ya too!"

"But ya didn't," said Trapjaw, "an' that's what matters. Besides, we've kilt people too. It's not like death is a new thing fer us."

"You two're idiots!" she exclaimed. "If you were smart, ya'd kill me now!"

"Don't worry about that," said Tri-Klops stoically. "If you enter a bloodlust again and pose a threat, I won't hesitate to cut you down, make no mistake about it." Jamie narrowed her eyes at him, half in fear and half out of anger; it was bold of him to say such things to her face and she knew that he would have no problem carrying out his words.

Releasing Jamie from his hold, Tri-Klops stood up and handed her the long sword that she had used last night. She took it, carefully examining its steel blade for any nicks or blemishes. "We have to keep moving," said Tri-Klops. "How much farther is it?"

Jamie scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, wiping away all evidence of tears. "We're 'side o' Blackmere, right? It should take us five days t' reach the edge o' the Northern Polar Ice Cap, 'n from there 's 'bout three o' four more days 'til we reach his castle."

"Great. We'd better get started, then"

As the trio fell into line, Jamie couldn't help but notice that the darkness that had settled around the clearing where they had spent the night had disappeared.

* * *

**A/N:** **_HAPPY BIRTHDAY TC!_**


	18. Captured

Edited.

**The Dark Temptress - **Thanks so much for the review! Yeah, poor ol' Trikey is never gonna get a chance to smooch her, lol. Oops, did I say that out loud? Heh heh heh………. Don't worry, I'd never let you come down here. It's hideous, in my opinion. I can't wait until I go to college so I can just get away from here.

**HitokiriKurisuta - **I plan to insert the Reaper side of Jamie into this story a few more times before the end. Glad you enjoyed her. And yes, T.J. is very cuddly, lol.

**Shadowchaos2000 - **Nope, you read right. _Stricatâ _can be used either way, for male or female. Besides, a whore is a whore, whether a man or a woman.

**Ebby - **Thankies for the review!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything associated with _He-man and the Masters of the Universe (2002)_. Jamie/Reaper, Mortiferus, and other minor characters not recognizable to Mattel are my own creations.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Captured**

* * *

_Snake Mountain_………

"They're making splendid progress, wouldn't you say?" asked Skeletor as he reclined into his throne, fisting his hand and resting his chin upon it. In the middle of the cavern hovered a purplish ring of light and within the ring was a picture as clear as if it were happening right in that room. Moving across the picture were three figures bundled in fur, fighting their way through a positively beastly blizzard. Several weeks had passed since Skeletor's minions had departed for the Northern Polar Ice Cap and Skeletor was practically dancing with glee at the progress that they had made within that short period of time.

Whereas any normal traveler would've gotten lost attempting to navigate the dense foliage of the Vine Jungle and the poisonous marshes of the Dreary Swamp, Tri-Klops had used his previous knowledge of the terrain and cut a straight path into Darkmoor, one of the last heavily populated towns that thrived near the treacherous, frigid terrain of the Ice Mountains. From there Jamie had pointed them in the direction of Valmorlar, the only remaining outpost in which one was able to purchase the necessary equipment for traveling through snow; apparently her brother's castle lay fifty or so leagues within the outermost borders of the Northern Polar Ice Cap, not that far from Mor Tarn (aka The Point of No Return). Already they had passed the last outpost and were a quarter of the way there.

"I suppose so," commented Evil-lyn as she checked her long nails. She was less impressed than Skeletor, although she had to admit she was a bit surprised; surely Tri-Klops would've succumbed to the frustrations of having a little girl and a clueless cyborg constantly tagging along. His temper was holding though, and she silently commended him for his efforts, especially after the tavern incidence.

Now _that_ had been and impressive display of willpower, for normally Tri-Klops would've sliced someone open, but he had restrained himself. It had been Trapjaw who had caused harm, though Evil-lyn had to give most of the credit to Jamie, or Reaper, or whatever it was that she liked to be called during those periods of bloodlusts. Speaking of which, Evil-lyn still had quite a bit to say on that subject. "You have to admit," she purred, running a finger over the crystalline orb that topped her magic staff, "Jamie's little outburst was quite unexpected, though rather interesting. It makes me wonder what else that girl has been hiding from us."

"Yes………," mused Skeletor, as he unconsciously mimicked her motion by tracing the empty eye sockets of the skull of his Havoc Staff. The bloodlust hadn't been as fascinating to him as it had to Evil-lyn; he was far more interested in the destination than in the circumstances by which his minions arrived.

"Maybe we could use this knowledge of her to our advantage," Evil-lyn gushed, imagining a very bloody yet fantastically successful raid in which that Teela brat was finally killed off. Nothing would be able to make her life more complete, other than becoming the most powerful sorceress in all of Eternia; that bit could wait, though. There were more important things to take care of in the present.

"Perhaps," Skeletor said, agreeing without actually telling Evil-lyn that she was right. He didn't like to admit that someone had thought of something before he had; he enjoyed being the one to come up with the decent plans. "She seems to be a bit………unpredictable during her episodes; that could prove to be a problem." Evil-lyn gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

"True," she muttered. Although she didn't want to admit it and spoil her fun, Skeletor did have a good point. Jamie could not be trusted if she couldn't be controlled. And if she couldn't be trusted then her usefulness would fade into oblivion. That was the way that it had always been and probably the way that it would always be forever more. The life of a villain was so predictable sometimes.

Sighing again, quite noisily too, Evil-lyn stretched her body to its full, considerable length before curling up on her plush chaise lounge, magically created for her convenience. It paid to be a sorceress. "So," she said, suppressing a yawn, "have you noticed anything else peculiar about that girl?"

"Like what?" asked Skeletor, pretending not to notice the way that her breasts moved whenever she inhaled or the way that her curvaceous hips shifted whenever she moved.

"I'm not sure how to describe it," she said, passing a hand over her eyes in an imitation of a faint. "It's like………an evil presence that's been following her." Being magic sensitive, Evil-lyn was able to detect when others were using spells on something or someone. And she was absolutely positive that someone had been stalking Jamie via an observation spell, one with malevolent intent.

"Evil? What kind of evil?" asked Skeletor. "Worse-than-us evil?" Now intrigued, the dark lord of Snake Mountain leaned forward in his throne, empty eye sockets blazing with that strange, unexplainable glow that seemed to originate from inside his skull. His clawed hands clutched at the arm rests of his throne, digging into the hard stone and cracking it. It almost looked as if he were ready to leap forward and pounce on Evil-lyn right then and there.

"I've already told you," the witch sighed, exasperated, "I don't know how else to explain it! It's something new, something that I haven't experienced before." Despite being one of the greatest sorceress's of her generation, Evil-lyn was still learning, and this was, obviously, a learning experience for her.

"Hmmm. It would be wise to proceed with caution, then," stated the overlord of Snake Mountain.

"Of course," his mistress replied, delicately lifting one shoulder. "Shall I resume the spell?"

"By all means. Who knows what kind of trouble those fools will get into without it?"

"Yes, my lord."

"'My lord'? Oh, how formal……… Tell me, are you well?"

"Oh, shut up; I was trying to be polite, but I can see that my manners are wasted on the likes of you."

"Really now?"

"Oh! Unhand me!"

"No."

* * *

_Somewhere in the Northern Polar Ice Cap_………

"If we live through this," roared Trapjaw over the howling of the wind, "I'm gonna kill 'er!"

"Shut up and keep walking!" Tri-Klops yelled back, pulling his fur cloak tighter around his shoulders, not that it did any good. The cold was unbearable; it penetrated every layer of clothing and seeped into their skin, freezing him to the bone. Every movement was a battle against time, a fight for survival.

It was during moments like these that Tri-Klops was truly glad for his cybernetic headgear; not only did it aid him in seeing where he was going, but it also doubled as a guard from the cold. The same could not be said for the rest of his armor, which had been carefully packed away so that he could don more protective clothing. Thankfully, they had been able to barter for some cold-weather gear at the last outpost and though it hadn't been a fair deal (he was actually thinking about making a "courtesy stop" on the way back, assuming that they survived the blizzard) they were grateful for what they had gotten.

Two pairs of insulated pants had gone to Jamie and Tri-Klops since Trapjaw's legs were already sufficiently covered and not in need of protection. There were also two tunics and four cloaks made out of a heavy, waterproof material that repelled against the snow as it melted. Since Trapjaw's bionic arm had called for a bit of creative thinking, Jamie had ended up taking two of the cloaks and fastening them in a sort of shawl that didn't hinder any movements of his arm but kept him warm all the same. All three members of the group had water-proof packs in which to store any belongings.

In the beginning the weather hadn't been all that bad; the days were shorter and the nights longer. Snow fell lightly from a cloudy sky and trees became smaller in size and sparse in number. In the mornings a fine layer of frost would coat the ground. After two days of hiking, patches of snow began to coagulate, steadily growing in size until they encompassed the entire ground. At first it was quite easy to walk on top of the crystallized water, but then the snow began to fall harder and it eventually gathered until it was ankle deep. This wasn't too terrible either, but the next day there was a small blizzard and then they were trudging through snow up to their knees.

This could be tolerated as well, but then the weather went haywire and it seemed as if they were walking through a never-ending snowstorm. The drifts would reach their hips at the lowest; at the highest their chests. This was particularly bad for Jamie, who was definitely the shortest one around.

Progress slowed considerably as the tempestuous winds hindered the amount of ground covered to no more than a couple meters every hour. Jamie, who was lagging further and further behind, wondered if this was all Ailil's doing, if he had had this planned the entire time. She had seen him manipulate nature before and wouldn't be surprised to learn that he could control the weather. She wasn't sure about his level of power, but she knew that it had greatly improved from when she had left him; in fact, she expected no less from him. He was, after all, her brother.

_Ailil,_ she thought, _I'll kill you for this_.

Jamie had never really gotten used to the extreme weather of her brother's domain. Most of her days in his castle had been spent bundled up in three or more layers of clothing and huddled in either the middle of her bed or near a fireplace. Ailil would always manage to walk in on her holding a cup of hot, steaming something-or-another between her shaking hands.

She had been easily susceptible to diseases then, since the frigid cold had all but destroyed her immune system. Jamie had been nothing more than an invalid child, unable to care for herself. Ailil, though a great nursemaid, didn't have as much free time on his hands as he would've liked and had entrusted her care to one of his servants.

And now, years later, she was finding out that her body had never really recovered from that time. She could feel that something wasn't working quite right, although she didn't know what it was or even if something was even working at all; maybe she was just paranoid. _I need to stop hanging around Tri-Klops so much_, she thought to herself.

Her limbs felt heavy, like they were being weighted down with chains and shackles. She had felt like this only a couple of times before in her life, and both times she had been deathly ill. The feeling wasn't a welcome one, that was for sure. Why, even her vision was beginning to fail as the snow blinded her, shielding her companions from her sight. Jamie blinked in an attempt to clear the fuzz that was building up in her eyes; when she opened them, she forced herself to close them again. There was no way that there was an orange and green-spotted electro-eel flying around her head. Thinking about it, Jamie found this statement to be quite odd, for she wasn't even sure that she had even seen an electro-eel before, let alone knew anything about their natural color schemes.

_Great,_ she thought, _now I'm seeing things_.

The vibrantly colored reptile slithered around her head for a few seconds, hissing and spitting for all that it was worth. Jamie could practically feel the electrical current flowing through its lithe body as it twisted around in the air; with each shock that it emitted, it swelled up like it had been inflated with air. It eventually became so large that Jamie thought that it might burst; sure enough, it popped with the force of a small explosion and fell towards the ground in a shower of gold sparks.

_Huh. Different._

Instead of landing on the snow and disappearing, the sparks curled back around and began buzzing around Jamie's face, accompanied by a steady hum.

_Catchy tune._

Though she was unaware, Jamie's brain was beginning to shut down. It was getting harder and harder for her to concentrate and form coherent thoughts, as well as differentiate between reality and illusion. The fact that she was no longer concerned with the fact that such a thing was ludicrous was just another sign that the hypothermia was getting to her.

The gold sparks finally fell into the snow after completing their chorus of hums; three bearded vipers popped out of the drift and intertwined themselves into the shape of a small dragon. Confused, Jamie reached out to touch the scaly hide of the beast, but her hand passed right through its flank. _Ah,_ she thought knowingly, _it's a ghost._ Pleased with herself, she continued to totter along, waving a little goodbye to the "ghosts", who disappeared the minute she looked away. Due to her waning judgment though, she began to veer off course, away from the direction that Tri-Klops and Trapjaw were headed in. Luckily for Jamie, Tri-Klops had just happened to turn around to look for her and ended up being sole witness to the most graceless face-plant he had ever seen.

Sighing to himself, the swordsman battled his way through the raging blizzard and yanked Jamie out of the hole that she had fallen in. "Are you all right?!" he shouted into her ear.

"Of course I am!" Jamie returned, falling to her knees as a fierce gust of wind caught her off balance. "Don't I look fine to you?" The truth was that no, she didn't look fine. Her skin may have been already white, but to Tri-Klops she just looked deathly pale; her lips were turning blue, for Eternia's sake! Her eyes were disconcertingly unfocused and even though she could be a bit of a klutz at times, falling down twice in a row was just unusual, never mind the fact that there were thirty mile an hour winds whipping about. Tri-Klops knew her better than that.

"Jamie!" he shouted. "We need to find shelter! Do you know if there's anything nearby?" The girl cocked her head to the side in contemplation, biting at her bottom lip. Tri-Klops felt like kicking himself when he found himself following the way she played with it, rolling it between her perfectly white teeth. Of all the times to be attracted to someone………

Finally, after a few minutes she replied, saying, "Don't worry, we won't walk if we keep on freezing!"

"What?" Tri-Klops gave his visor a tap and its scanner's quickly whirred to life, processing the bodily statistics of the small girl in front of him. What he found was horrifying. It appeared that Jamie was entering the second stage of hypothermia, complete with illusions and nonsense talk. _Great,_ though Tri-Klops, _yet another problem to worry about. _Jamie scrambled to her feet as best she could and gave her head a quick shake, which promptly sent her falling back into the snow.

"It's cold down here!" she yelped.

"Damn," Tri-Klops muttered, grabbing the hood of Jamie's cloak and yanking her upright. "We need to find shelter!" he shouted at her, making sure that she heard and understood what he was saying. "Do you know if there's anything nearby?!"

"Nope," Jamie said, spinning in a little circle. Before gravity could once again take hold of her, Tri-Klops wrapped his arm around her waist and began pulling her alongside him as he made his way back to Trapjaw, who was patiently waiting for them. Scratch the patient part.

"Where tha' hell did ya go?!" he asked, irked that he hadn't been informed about anything that was happening.

"Jamie's not going to make it if we can't find shelter!" the swordsman said. "We need to get her out of the snow!" Trapjaw shrugged his knapsack off of his shoulder and threw it at Tri-Klops, who wordlessly caught it and slung both it and Jamie's sack over his shoulder. Without any further questioning, Trapjaw picked Jamie up and held her tightly to his chest.

"Are you sure that you'll be able to carry her?!" Tri-Klops yelled. Trapjaw shot him a reproachful look that basically said, "What? Are you kidding me?"

"Trike," he said aloud, "_you _of all people should know that I'm th' pack mule of th' bunch; I'm _always_ carryin' things, things that're _way_ heavier than this lil' half-pint!"

"Tee-hee!" Jamie interjected. "Half-pint!" She giggled furiously for a moment and then silenced herself, snuggling closer to the warmth of Trapjaw's torso.

They resumed walking once both men were situated with what they were carrying, heading in the direction of what they hoped was either a shelter or Ailil's castle. For some reason unknown to them, the weather seemed twice as horrid as it was earlier and walking was twice as difficult. It was like nature knew of their plans and was trying to prevent them from accomplishing them.

After what seemed like hours the two men came to a stop, though not by choice; their path was blocked by an icy wall that appeared to be miles high. "Looks familiar, don't it?" shouted Trapjaw, referring to the Mystic Wall that had long ago been destroyed. Tri-Klops nodded in agreement, too busy to actually verbally reply. He was skimming the thick wall of ice, the thermal scanners within his visor searching for a weak spot that could be taken advantage of. From what Tri-Klops was able to gather there was a massive cavern behind the entire length of the wall and if he were able to find a weak spot in the wall where the ice was thinner, then he might be able to break through. It was their best choice for saving Jamie.

Though he tried not to show it, Tri-Klops was actually very worried about her condition. Thoughts about her dying kept filtering into his mind, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on something else. _She can't die_, he thought to himself, _she can't die, it's not her time_. It was foolishness to think in such a manner, for no one knew when they were appointed to die, only that they would. _She's not going to die, she's not going to die, she's not going to die, she's going to live, she's going to live and we're going to complete our mission._

"Hey Trike," shouted Trapjaw, as he carefully shifted a thoroughly bundled up Jamie into a more comfortable position in his arms, "find anythin' yet?"

"No!" he replied as he scanned another portion of ice. Suddenly, a small red patch appeared on the screen of his visor. "Wait!" he said triumphantly. "I think I have something!" Tri-klops walked up to the section of wall that he had been examining and ran a gloved hand across its surface. He noticed that his reflection upon its mirror-like surface didn't run as deeply and that if he concentrated hard enough he could make out distorted shapes on the other side. He had found the weak point.

"Here!" said Trapjaw, handing Jamie off to Tri-Klops. "I'll handle this." Tri-Klops pulled Jamie to his chest protectively, glad that she was now in his arms. Trapjaw walked up the wall and tapped on it before smirking. His mechanical arm shifted into its clawed form, the one that Trapjaw usually favored. Without warning the cyborg drew back his weapon and swung at the ice wall.

**SHRACK!**

The ice splintered and trembled beneath the pressure of Trapjaw's powerful blow and a web of cracks made their way up from the point of contact. Still, even with the concussive force of Trapjaw's punch, the ice didn't completely shatter. Unperturbed, Trapjaw hit the wall a second and third time and the ice gave way a bit more each time. Three more punches revealed the same result, but the seventh strike finally forced the wall to yield. A rounded archway caved in, leaving enough room for the two men to slip through and onto the other side. The change in the difference of atmosphere was immediate and deafening; the wind was no longer a threat and there was a slight rise in temperature within the cavern. About four hundred feet inwards they ran into a small alcove where they decided to spend the night. In the morning, when they were sure that Jamie was alright, they would resume their hike.

Speaking of which, Jamie was thankfully still alive, despite the hazard of hypothermia. The only thing that presented a problem was the fact that her breathing was slightly irregular and that she was chilled to the bone. "How're we gonna get 'er warmed up?" asked Trapjaw as touched her ice-cold cheek.

"Body heat," said Tri-Klops tersely, giving Trapjaw a pointed look. The cyborg looked as his friend for a moment, confused, but then it dawned on him and he gave the swordsman a rough slap on the back.

"Knock yerself out," he chuckled, taking up residence on the other side of a large outcropping of rock so as to give Tri-Klops some privacy.

Sighing to himself, Tri-Klops began to undress himself, quickly removing all of the protective clothing that had earlier shielded him from the wrath of nature. The fur garments were laid out in a way that they could be used as a mattress, though not a very thick or comfortable one and the cloaks spread out to act as blankets. Once he was finished, he quickly began to undress Jamie in the same manner, utilizing her clothing in any way possible.

In his own defense, Tri-Klops retained a bare minimum of clothing on, in case Jamie awoke and found herself in a compromising situation. A thin tunic and pants for him and a longer tunic for her; it wasn't much, but it worked. Tri-Klops was glad that he didn't have to undress her the entire way. He didn't want to risk a distraction to either him or Trapjaw, and he knew that Jamie wouldn't appreciate it anyways, even if it had been to save her life.

Tri-Klops cradled her to his chest, acknowledging the fact that she was shaking; he tried to nestle her in between the "sheets" as quickly as possible without jostling her any more than was necessary. He quickly followed her beneath the homemade "bed" and pulled Jamie closely to his body, hoping that the warmth created between the two of them would be enough to revive her senses. There would be explaining to do, yes, but it was the only way to make sure that she didn't freeze to death. Had there been another way though, Tri-Klops doubted that he would've taken it. It had been far too long since he had last held a woman in his arms so intimately.

In fact, Tri-Klops could barely even remember the last time he had bedded a woman. It made him wonder about what might've happened had he and Jamie met under different circumstances. Would she have been willing or would she have played hard to get? Would she have even been interested? Would he? Maybe and maybe not. It all came down to circumstance.

Jamie was mysterious and awkward; he was drawn to her like a scientist is drawn to any anomaly within his field. Tri-Klops wanted to know more about her than he already knew. He wanted to know what went on inside that thick head of hers. He wanted to know her unique genetic makeup as well as her psychological past. He also wanted to touch her body in ways that he hadn't in a long time. He wanted to treat her as a man treats a woman, but she wouldn't let him. It was as if she were too afraid. _Afraid of what?_ he asked himself as his arm curled tightly around Jamie's waist. _Of me? _He wouldn't be surprised, considering all that had gone on between them in the short while they had known each other. But while he hadn't exactly been Mr. Considerate, neither was she Ms. Propriety.

"An eye for an eye" was an old saying that went a long way.

_But if we had met differently_………

* * *

To his immense relief the next morning (or at least, he _assumed _that it was morning; it was hard to tell with the blizzard still raging outside), Tri-Klops awoke long before Jamie began to stir, giving him the chance to fully redress without disturbing Jamie, even though certain articles had to be removed from beneath her slumbering body. Sadly, he was unable to retrieve his cloak for the time being, seeing as Jamie was using it as a barrier between herself and the cold ice floor.

"Trapjaw?" Tri-Klops whispered, hoping to formulate some plan of action before Jamie awoke.

"Yeah, I'm here," the cyborg said hoarsely, shooting Tri-Klops a dirty look; Trapjaw hated waking up early.

"I have no idea what our position is in relation to the castle," Tri-Klops said, ignoring the dagger-like glare he was receiving. "Until Jamie wakes up we're stuck here."

"No shit."

"We need to think ahead; what're we going to do once we infiltrate the castle?"

"Blow things up. Wreak havoc 'n mayhem. Kick ev'ryone's ass who tries ta stop us. Wreak more havoc 'n mayhem. Blow more things up. Kick more ass."

Tri-Klops rolled his eyes behind his visor, wanting to deck Trapjaw for his stupidity. Did he think of anything else aside from ale, women, and fighting? Obviously not. "I'm serious," Tri-Klops ground out, not in the mood for any more delays.

"All right, all right," grumbled Trapjaw, shaking out his cloak and throwing it back over his shoulders. "Is she awake yet?"

"No. I don't understand how someone can sleep for so long; surely she'd have wakened up by now."

"Ah, leave 'er to it; she had a bad experience. I think I'd sleep too."

"I'm just worried."

"Trike, I hate ta break it ta ya, but yer _always_ worried. This ain't anythin' new."

"You're right. I'm just stressing."

"Damn straight, ya are."

"I'm going to go see if I can get Jamie up. We need to press onward."

"Good luck."

However, Jamie was by no means ready to "get up and press onward". In fact, she showed no signs of even beginning to wake; she was still within the clutches of a deep sleep. Tri-Klops poked her cheek with his finger, wondering how much more the poor girl could take. Between ugly kidnappers, getting drunk, bloodlusts, hypothermia, and the barely restrained sexual tension, it was a wonder that she had survived the journey thus far.

Checking her vitals, Tri-Klops was only slightly relieved to see that the threat of hypothermia had retreated, since it meant that Jamie now needed time to regain her strength. They couldn't afford the amount of time required, however. It seemed like a losing battle; for everything that went right, two things went wrong. Tri-Klops knew that forfeit wasn't an option, but at the rate things were going, he wasn't sure how much longer any of them would last. Even he had to admit that he had limits.

"Jamie," Tri-Klops said, hoping that the girl would just wake up, but she stayed silent and still. "Jamie," he said again, a little bit louder, just as Trapjaw came around the corner. Still nothing.

"Man," commented Trapjaw, "she's really outta it."

"Yes," agreed Tri-Klops, not as nearly amused as Trapjaw. "She needs to wake up though."

"Maybe she can't. Maybe she needs more time ta git 'er strength back."

Knowing that Trapjaw was one hundred percent correct but unwilling to admit it, Tri-Klops turned to look at him, intent on telling him off for his "stupidity". He never got the chance however, for behind the cyborg was perhaps the strangest sight that he had seen since setting out on their journey. Behind Trapjaw stood a figure dressed in a completely black garment that fell straight to the ground with a hood that obscured the wearer's face. The figure was not as tall as Tri-Klops and was much more willowy in stature, almost like the figure of a woman.

For several seconds, though it seemed longer, Tri-Klops and the mysterious figure stared at each other as if sizing one another up. This continued on until Trapjaw turned around to see what had shut the swordsman up. "Who th' hell are you?" he growled, reflexively clenching his fist. The figure did not answer but tilted its head in what they assumed to be a questioning gesture.

"Who are you?" Tri-Klops echoed Trapjaw's words, hands itching to reach for the sword that was once again strapped to his back.

The figure seemed to hesitate for a moment before reaching up with bare hands to pull away the hood that covered its face. How surprised the two hardened warriors were when the cloaked figure revealed himself to be nothing more than a rather pretty young man with flaming red hair and intelligent golden eyes. The man tilted his head again, looking at Trapjaw and Tri-Klops curiously, as if deciding what was to be done with them. After he seemingly made up his mind, he flashed them a brilliantly white smile and beckoned at them with a hand.

Neither man moved however, preferring to remain where they stood until they could figure out what was going on. "I'll repeat myself once more," warned Tri-Klops. "Who. Are. You?" Normally he would have resorted to the kill-first-and-ask-questions-later tactic but the mysterious young man didn't seem to be threatening in any way. As a matter of fact, it seemed that he carried no weapons at all. Tri-Klops wondered at this until he spotted some rather distinct marks of the man's now exposed shoulders; bite marks, to be specific. In fact, now that he thought about it, most of the marks seemed to be reminiscent of what Evil-lyn would sometimes sport after a particularly rough night.

_A sex slave,_ he thought to himself, _this just keeps getting more and more interesting_. Not only did the man sport the evidence of an obvious bout of love-making, but he also exhibited some rather brutal marks of beatings. The area beneath his left eye was terribly bruised with a large purple and black spot that was oozing blood around the edges. Dried blood was crusted around the rims of the man's nostrils and his lip was very badly cut. The bruises and bites blended together around his collar bone, becoming indistinguishable from each other.

Whoever he was, this man had certainly gone through a lot of abuse, be it sexual or of a more violent nature. In response to Tri-Klops's question, the man pointed at Jamie (who was still in a deep slumber), Trapjaw, and finally Tri-Klops, gesturing with his other hand that they might go in a certain direction off to his left. The smile had yet to leave his face, seeming more and more forced as the minutes wore past. "What are you trying to say?" Tri-Klops asked, not really sure what the other man wanted. With an audible sigh of exasperation, the man began to sign rapidly with his fingers.

Although Tri-Klops recognized the motions as sign language, he had no clue what was being said. This did bring to his attention the now very obvious fact that the man was either deaf or mute. He couldn't be deaf though, for he had heard and attempted to answer their earlier question of whom he was, which was still unsatisfying unclear. Peering closer, Tri-Klops noticed a collection of vicious scars crisscrossing the man's slender neck, most of them originating from his throat. Some were pink and looked fresh while others were old and white. Every last one of them looked fatal, but one stood out among the rest.

It was long, stretching, quite literally, from ear to ear and was an angry red in color, like it had been recently received. By Tri-Klops's standards, the man before him should've died from such wounds, yet it wasn't unheard of for someone to survive having their throat slit. Trapjaw himself had had his arm and his lower jaw blown off and he had pulled through. Still, it was an odd thing; at the least, it explained why the man hadn't spoken yet. "I don't understand what you're trying to tell me," Tri-Klops said, finally turning back to Jamie.

_He's saying that you should follow him._

The voice, though not really an audible sound, was soft, young, and feminine, touching Tri-Klops's mind like a caress. It sounded beautiful, like nothing he had ever heard before. It was also coming from inside his head. "What th' hell?!" sputtered Trapjaw; he too had "heard" it then.

_Don't be alarmed,_ the voice pleaded, sounding a little abashed. _I mean you no harm. I am merely communicating with you through thought-speech._

"Who are you?" Tri-Klops demanded to know angrily. Random people popping up out of nowhere were not something that he normally dealt with on a regular basis and it was seriously getting on his nerve. He didn't like surprises, as he had mentioned to Jamie before. "_Where _are you?"

_I'm right here, next to Jädian._

Assuming that "Jädian" could only be the red-haired man, Tri-Klops and Trapjaw rounded on him furiously, but were struck speechless, again, as a small woman materialized next to him. The first thing that they noticed about her was that the skin around her mouth had been burned away, perhaps by an acid or something. The ghastly white of her bones melded with bloody ends of muscle and skin, held together by horrid, twisted bits of metal. Tiny holes were drilled into each of her teeth, which were also wired together. Blood and saliva dripped off of her chin and onto her burgeoning chest, yet she seemed not to notice. It looked positively painful, not to mention disgusting.

Other than the lower half of her face she was actually quite pretty, with a petite and curvaceous body and dark hair. Inky black eyes shone in the direction of the two men who were at a loss for words, clearly laughing at their astonished reactions. _Greetings,_ she spoke into their minds. _My name is Liala and this is my companion Jädian. We are here to guide you throughout the rest of your journey._

"Why?" snarled Tri-Klops, still ticked off. "What's in it for you?" Liala laughed merrily, the bell-like sound echoing through their heads.

_There is nothing "in it" for us other than freedom from the tyrant known as Mortiferus._

"Morti-what's-it?" questioned Trapjaw. "We ain't lookin' fer a Mortiferus, we're lookin' fer an Ailil." Liala and Jädian shared a secretive look with each other before Liala smiled charmingly at them.

_Whatever you have been told,_ she said kindly, _there is no Ailil here now. Only Mortiferus. Won't you help us regardless?_

"What's in it for us?" asked Tri-Klops, reversing his previous question. Something suspicious was going on here and he wanted to know what it was, especially since it had been brought to his attention that a certain someone no longer existed, unless of course he was being lied to.

_Our eternal gratitude for saving us,_ came the expected answer.

"I don't know," he said, wary of their intentions.

_Please!_ the woman cried, clutching her hands together in front of her. _There are others just like us who are still trapped within his castle! Please, you must help us_……… The woman looked genuinely distressed, but that could've just meant that she was a good actress. Tri-Klops had seen Evil-lyn produce fake tears before when she hadn't gotten her way over something.

"I don't know………," he mused again, rubbing his chin.

_Please,_ she begged, _if you do, we shall help you to find this Ailil that you're searching for._ Now there was something that grabbed Tri-Klops's attention. Perhaps if they didn't know where he was, they could at least aid them in their search, even though Tri-Klops still believed that Liala was lying. Something still wasn't right.

"I think that arrangement is satisfactory, don't you agree, Trapjaw?" The cyborg nodded dutifully, an expression on his face that expressed a reluctant approval. "Good," said Tri-Klops. "It seems that we have an agreement."

Liala clapped and smiled as best she could with her jaws wired shut as they were. _Excellent,_ she said. _Follow Jädian and be sure to keep up! We don't want you to get lost now._

"No," grinned Tri-Klops amiably, "we sure don't." Trapjaw elbowed him lightly in the ribs, muttering something about being a lady killer; Tri-Klops just scowled. Liala all of the sudden disappeared with a small tingling noise, which left thee three men alone with Jamie, who was still sleeping.

_I shall take the girl with me,_ declared a disembodied voice. _It will be much easier that way._

"No!" said Tri-Klops quickly, not wanting their group to be split up, but it was too late; with a small flash of white light, Jamie had disappeared, clothes and all. "Dammit," he murmured under his breath. That hadn't been good.

_Don't worry, _Liala assured him, _she is safe._

"She would've been safer with me," he said, glaring at no one in particular. Liala didn't respond though, and Jädian waved his hand at them as he began to lead them through the labyrinth of the ice caverns. The path which he led them on was very narrow, barely giving them enough room to pass by while at other times it was about as wide as Skeletor's throne room. Icicles the length and width of Trapjaw's bionic arm hung from the ceiling, shuddering precariously at loud noises and looking threateningly sharp. It was a dangerous trek, but Tri-Klops didn't notice. He was too focused on where they were going. He still didn't like surprises.

Unbeknownst to him, Jädian was having a rather animated conversation within his head with none other than Liala. _Listen,_ she cautioned, _I want them _alive_, do you understand me?_

_Yes, master, _Jädian responded mechanically.

_Don't you dare damage them._

_Of course not; they are yours._

_Good. Bring them to me the instant you reach the castle._

_It will be as you will it._

_If they are any trouble you may use whatever force you feel necessary in order to subdue them, but do not, I repeat, do _not_ kill them._

_Understood._

About three hours after they had began following their red-headed guide, Tri-Klops began to become impatient. It seemed like they were just going in circles and though everything looked unfamiliar, Tri-Klops still had that distinct impression of déjà-vu. He hated that feeling. "Exactly where are you taking us?" he finally asked.

_Tell him _nothing Liala said inside Jädian's head.

_As if I can, my master._

Jädian could almost feel her smile of approval and didn't acknowledge Tri-Klops or Trapjaw in any way, something which made the two even more uneasy. "Hey!" shouted Trapjaw angrily. "We're talkin' t' ya!" All he received was silence. Angrily he stalked up to Jädian and grabbed him by the shoulder to prevent him from taking another step.

Three things happened at once. Jädian jumped around Trapjaw and delivered a roundhouse kick to Tri-Klops's chin, the force instantly knocking him out and sending him skidding backwards on the icy ground. Jädian also threw something at Trapjaw; it exploded right after striking him on the chest. At almost the exact same time as this was happening a strange white light surrounded the trio and then disappeared, taking them with it. Not one second after they vanished a storm of sharp-as-death icicles came raining down upon the spot where they had just been standing.

Deep within the lair of the castle stronghold a man sat on a throne, hunched over and covered in shadows. He grinned. The grin became a chuckle and the chuckle became a snicker. The snicker soon turned into a maniacal laugh, full of devious things to come.

Mortiferus' plan was going perfectly.

* * *

**A/N:** Meh, it's okay.


	19. Despair

I need your honest opinions here. Does anyone think that Jamie is a Mary-Sue? I swore to myself that I wouldn't let it happen, but I can't help but feel that Trike is reacting to her in very Mary-Suish ways. I feel like he's out of character sometimes. Your thoughts, please. And I must ask your forgiveness on taking so long to get this chapter out. Some parts of it weren't working and then I have two jobs so………yeah, I'm a busy little girl.

**HitokiriKurisuta** - Your pervy assumptions would be correct, lol. And thank you, things are getting better.

**Eva91** - Glad that you liked it! **:clings:** I missed you! Like crazy.

**The Dark Temptress** - Thanks for the review! No, I'm not bitter, I just don't like Florida, lol. Some parts are really nice and all, but overall it's just gross.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything belonging the He-man and the Masters of the Universe (2002), but I do attain my individual rights to Jamie/Reaper, Mortiferus/Ailil, and any other original character not recognizable to the Mattel corporation.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Despair**

* * *

"Ugh………," moaned Jamie as consciousness seeped back into her mind and body. Every limb was as sore as if she had just been buried under a rockslide and her head pounded with one of the worst headaches she had ever experienced (save for that hangover; now _that_ had been pure torture). Jamie groaned again, rolling over onto her side. Her bare skin met with soft pillows and cool sheets, fully arousing her already half-awakened senses from slumber.

The first thing that her eyes encountered was darkness. Not the type of darkness that takes a moment for one's eyes to adjust to so that they might see the outlines of certain objects, but the type of darkness that was so thick that you could cut it with a sword. It was the type of pitch black dark that consumed a person from all sides and was impossible to see in. It was the type of darkness that caused Jamie to close her eyes in fear of what she couldn't see, of what she didn't know.

She wanted it to go away, to lift and be replaced by a light, any light, just so long as she could see. Not being able to see: it was one of Jamie's fears. Her eyesight was just about the most important thing that she had and she valued it above all of her other bodily functions, thus it terrified her when faced with the prospect of losing it. _Please,_ she pleaded silently with herself, _get a hold of yourself!_ Her eyes opened timidly, a toe in the waters of her fear. She wasn't going to let this overcome her. She refused to act like a child, especially after all that had already happened. There was no more time for pity, fear, or pain. She had to be stronger than this.

Jamie slowly sat up, hands on either side of her for support. It was pretty obvious that she was on some sort of bed or couch, so that probably meant that she was in a bedchamber or something. Tentatively, she reached out to the left, her slender fingers searching for something, anything that might alert her to her whereabouts. Nothing. The process was repeated on her right, but there wasn't anything on that side either.

Alright, so she knew that she was in the middle of a bed or couch without anything on the sides. _How helpful,_ she thought dryly, rubbing her arm. When her hand met with more bare skin, her discovery prompted her to run her fingers all over her body, to figure out whether or not she had clothes on. To her immense relief her underclothes were still intact, though a little loose-fitting. This only prompted Jamie to grab the nearest sheet and wrap it tightly around her entire frame. Fear threatened to overcome her again when she realized just how unprotected she was, but Jamie fought it back down. _Stop freaking out!_ she reprimanded herself. _You need to try and figure out what happened to you._

The last thing she remembered was walking through the blizzard, struggling to stay on her feet as the violent winds screamed around her. She vaguely remembered falling down in the snow and then everything began to get blurry. The last thing she saw in her mind's eye was the visage of Tri-Klops looking down at her, his powerful arm wrapped around her waist.

The fact that she couldn't remember anything after Tri-Klops had put his arm around her bothered Jamie. Normally she would only experience such memory lapses after an episode of bloodlust, yet she was sure that that hadn't happened. Her guts weren't squirming with dread and guilt over something terrible that she might've done, so she took that as a good sign. Besides, she liked to think that she hadn't hurt either of her friends.

_Oooohhh,_ she moaned to herself, _why can't I remember what happened?_ It slipped her mind that she was unusually perceptive to the cold and therefore had nearly succumbed to its merciless power, as well as contracted hypothermia; it was a wonder she was alive, though she neither knew nor needed to know that piece of information.

Jamie lowered her still aching head into her cupped palms and sighed. She had no idea where she was and on top of that, she didn't even know if Tri-Klops and Trapjaw were still alive. For all she knew, they could've been dead. She immediately drove those thoughts out of her mind, refusing to believe that it was possible. She was worried about the both of them, especially Tri-Klops. She was no longer denying the fact that she was attracted to the man and had in fact stopped denying it ever since Blackmere. The issue was that he didn't seem to reciprocate her feelings, or if he did he wasn't showing.

Jamie gave another irritated sigh, not noticing the distinct sound of an opening door. She didn't notice her brother enter, which was odd, considering that he made small sounds as he moved about. Unlike the seemingly young girl that was seated in the middle of his bed, Mortiferus could see perfectly in the dark, thanks to his light sensitive eyes. What he saw aroused him in ways that he did not think possible.

She was small and petite, barely brushing past five feet in height. Her form was slightly curvaceous around the hips (and currently encased in _his _bed sheets, he noticed) and her legs were long and muscled while retaining their feministic delicacy. Her lips were full and currently set in a pout while her eyes, flashed angrily in the dark. In _his _eyes, she was absolutely gorgeous. Mortiferus smiled devilishly to himself and waved his hand. It was time for them to become reacquainted.

Candles sputtered with tiny flames and a fireplace roared to life, shocking Jamie so much that she actually screamed and clutched at her chest. Mortiferus could not help but chuckle at both the wild look in her eyes and the way she instinctively pulled her knees further to her bosom. She had always been skittish.

"Hello there, Jamie," he purred, even as she spun around to see who had laughed at her. Mortiferus received an even greater amount of amusement from the new look on her face that had replaced the one of fear. No, this look was one that he knew all too well but never tired of. It was a look of absolute loathing, and never before had a more dangerous woman given it to him.

Her mouth was set in a thin line and her eyes absolutely blazed with neon fire as her pupils constricted so small that they were practically nonexistent. "What are _you _doing here?" she hissed at him, baring her teeth threateningly.

"Oh come now, Jamie dear," he cooed at her, "do stop fretting. It's _most _unbecoming of you." Jamie replied, telling Mortiferus to go do something that he very much would've enjoyed, especially if she had been the one to do it to him.

"Such harsh language that proceeds from my sister's lips," he said out loud to himself, placing a hand on his hip and flicking his ebony ponytail behind his shoulder. "And to think that's it's been years since we last saw each other. Tell me, what have you been doing all this time?"

"Trying to forget about you," Jamie spat. "Trying and failing." Mortiferus laughed heartily, enjoying taunting his sister. She had always been an easy one to provoke……….

"Come now Jamie," he said again, speaking to her as if she were nothing more than a child, "you don't _really _want to forget me, now do you? After all, we're siblings! Shouldn't that count for something?"

"I disowned you a long time ago, Ailil," she said angrily, sliding off the bed and pulling the sheet tighter around her, as if it could offer some sort of protection.

_By the gods_, she thought, _he looks the same! _Her brother looked the exact same as he had that day on the battlements, where he had killed their parents in cold blood. His eyes, still as blue as the sky on a cloudless day, were no longer dilated but looked as normal as could be. His black hair was long and several strands hung in his face but he paid them no mind. His lips were full and sensuous, much like their mother's. He had high cheekbones that accentuated his angled face, reminding Jamie a bit of a serpent.

He was tall, over six feet, and his body was wiry and well muscled. He was less broad than Tri-Klops or Trapjaw, as Jamie noticed, yet he looked like he would be able to hold his own in a fight against one of them. He dressed in all black, another trait of his that would last until death. He looked the same………. Ailil had always looked more like their mother, who had a naturally dark complexion, while Jamie took after their father, white hair and all.

Had they been placed side by side, it would've been easy for anyone with half a brain to tell that they were related. Their facial structure was slightly identical; they had the same expressions, the same odd mannerisms that siblings often have. Jamie hated it.

"You wound me," Mortiferus said, his tone bored. "And just between you and me, the name's no longer Ailil. I too, have disowned that personage. You can call me Mortiferus." Jamie snorted.

"Please," she said haughtily, "you can't just throw away your old name. That's who you are, you can't change it."

Mortiferus quirked an eyebrow at Jamie, his expression daring her to continue. "You'll find that, out here," he said, "I can do whatever I please and no tries to stop me. Out here, I am the absolute power and no one dares to question my authority." Jamie's mouth was a thin, tight line as she thought of something to say to that. Nothing came to mind, so she settled for the next best thing: an insult.

"Power? Authority? I see neither of those things, only the illusion of such. At least Ailil knew the difference between reality and fantasy; _he_ had _real _power."

"**FOOL**!" Mortiferus roared, leaping forward and grabbing Jamie by her shoulders. "AILIL WAS WEAK! **I **AM STRONG!" He shook her fiercely, snapping her head back and forth so fast that it was a wonder that her neck didn't break. After a few seconds the dark mage calmed down but continued in a very strained voice, "Ailil was a fool; a weak fool. He held me back from what I was truly capable of and so I discarded him. Mortiferus is the only part that still lives."

He released Jamie, who staggered back into the wall, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. He didn't know what had prompted her to cry; maybe it was the way he had yelled and shook her, maybe being so near to him triggered memories of their parents, or perhaps it was the revelation that her brother, her _real _brother, no longer existed. Either way, she was crying. Mortiferus turned his back on her, facing the wall and hoping that she didn't notice the way that he had become instantly aroused the moment that he had come in contact with her.

"The Ailil that you once knew is dead, Jamie," he said in a subdued manner. "I am all that is left of the man that you called your brother." At his blunt words Jamie began to sob for the first time in ages, tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping off of her nose and chin to fall on the stone floor. A hand came up to cover her mouth and she sank silently to the floor, shaking uncontrollably.

It had been a very long time indeed since she had last shown such powerful emotions; probably as long ago as when he had murdered their parents. She had cried so hard then………. Now, with her face turning red and all wet, Mortiferus was willing to bet that she was trying to outdo herself.

"Y-you're a……….you're a muh-monster!" Jamie choked out, her chest heaving as she tried not to hyperventilate. "I huh-hate……….hate yuh-you!" Mortiferus smiled, turning back around to smirk at her.

"I know," he said. "And I quite enjoy it." He walked to where Jamie sat and kneeled down in front of her, reaching out to push her disheveled hair out of her eyes.

"I liked your hair when you wore it longer," he declared solemnly. Jamie glared at him angrily, tears still streaming out of her eyes.

"Wuh-what do you wuh-want?" she gasped, trying to suck in huge amounts of air to calm her lungs down.

"What do _I _want?" echoed Mortiferus, sitting back on his heels and looking thoughtful. "For starters, I want you to get rid of any thoughts that you had about trying to kill me. Oh, don't look so surprised, of _course _I knew what you were trying to do," he added as Jamie gaped at him incredulously.

She shifted away from him, maneuvering so that her back was against the wall and that her legs were folded beneath her body. There was suspicious gleam in her eyes that clearly stated that she didn't trust him, but there was also something else, something that desperately wanted answers. As to what, Mortiferus had no clue but he knew that when she was ready to talk she'd let him know. "Huh-how did you know tha-that I had the intention of kuh-killing you?" she asked, still trying to calm her breathing down.

"I make it my business to know _everything _that goes on in my realm," he said, grinning in a very feral manner. "But I've always known, my dear. You see, I've been watching you ever since you left Snake Mountain. I've been watching you for every night since you started out on your little 'quest', wondering why you would want to do such a thing."

"_Why_?" asked Jamie in disbelief, now completely calm except for the occasional shudders that ran through her body. "I should think that obvious, _Mortiferus_. I mean, you only killed our parents. You know, the people who gave us life?" Mortiferus sighed.

"Them again?" he asked. "Why must they always haunt me? I'm constantly reminded of those old fools no matter where I go!" Jamie snarled at him.

"They weren't fools, you bastard!" she shouted. "They were our parents!"

"**SHUT UP**!" Mortiferus thundered again, backhanding Jamie right across the face. The force of his strike was so powerful that she fell over and slid across the room on her side, bumping into a very old bookshelf. The skin of her cheek was a bright red and the look in her eyes murderous; contrary to what she had felt when Tri-Klops had hit her, Jamie wanted to jump on her brother and strangle him to death.

"_You hit me_," she seethed at him, cradling her face in one palm.

"You spoke back to me," countered the sorcerer. "Think of it as payback."

Jamie growled and said something inaudible, but the deadly look in her eyes continued to grow as she stood up. She may not have noticed that the sheet which she had used to cover herself had slipped low around her breasts, but Mortiferus certainly did and he was glad that his breeches were loose and his tunic long.

Nevertheless, he had to bite his tongue in an effort to keep himself from jumping Jamie right then and there and having his way with her. There'd be time for that later. First, he had to convince her that he meant her no harm. Then, once he had her trust, he would reveal to her his plan, the whole reason that he had needed her in the first place. When Jamie accepted his offers of power and riches, and he knew that she would, they would rule together and he would make her his queen.

"Payback my ass," she cursed at him, her upper lip curling into a sneer. "You know very well that I despise being hit. You of all people should know better."

"Your threats do not bother me," Mortiferus laughed. "Even if you lapsed into a bloodlust and became the Reaper, I would still defeat you. My magical powers are far beyond your comprehension."

"I don't doubt that," said Jamie, "but I wasn't talking about magic. Physically, I could kill you if I wanted to."

"This is most likely true, but do you really want to test your theory?"

Jamie laughed harshly, a strange sound coming from her throat that indicated that she wasn't used to being so cold. "I don't need to test it to know the outcome," she replied evenly. Mortiferus smirked, nodding her in direction. She gave a cursory nod in return, the sneer still on her lips. She wasn't as beautiful when she made faces like that.

"Jamie dear," he said, attempting to fall back into the role of a loving brother, "I would very much enjoy it if you were to join me for supper this evening." Jamie looked out the darkened window and gave him a look that asked if he were crazy.

"It's already evening," she said.

"No, it's not; it's actually four hours away from dusk. This is the Northern Polar Ice Cap, my love. It's always dark in this region at this time of the year." Apparently she hadn't known this and the look of interest on her face confirmed it. "So," he said, "won't you accept my offer?"

"First tell me what happened to Tri-Klops and Trapjaw."

That damned swordsman again………. Mortiferus very nearly growled at the thought of that man, but he held back, not wanting Jamie to question him. As it was, he had every intention of torturing the two trespassers before killing them; he didn't want Jamie to know however, so he supposed that his plans would have to wait. "They're perfectly fine," he said lying through his teeth and doing a very good job at it. "I've set up accommodations for them, much like the one that you're in. There's nothing to worry about."

"I want to see them," Jamie demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. Mortiferus groaned; whenever Jamie had crossed her arms like that when they were children, it meant that no matter what, she was going to have her way. "You can't at the moment," Mortiferus adlibbed, hoping that she wouldn't catch on to his falsehood. "It was a pretty terrible storm out there; everyone was unconscious when I came along and I wouldn't be surprised if they were still sleeping."

Jamie shook her head. "I know those two," she said. "A blizzard, no matter how terrible, isn't enough to keep them down for so long. How long have I been out, anyways?"

Loathe to tell the truth yet finding no way around it, Mortiferus replied, saying, "About a day and a half." Jamie smirked.

"Then they're already up," she reasoned. "A day is way more than enough rest for those two. I want to see them. Now, or forget about your little dinner party."

Her tone infuriated Mortiferus to the point where he was seeing red, forcing him to snap. He lurched forward, grabbing Jamie's face in his hands and pulling her close. "I don't know what you see in him," he said lowly, "but I will not tolerate it! You're too good for him and I will not see you lowering your standards!" His sharp nails dug into her skin, bruising her cheeks and causing her to gasp in pain. She struggled against him, but she was still too weak to push him away.

"Get off!" she cried, hitting his shoulder with her fist. Mortiferus just laughed and licked his lips in a very provocative manner, causing Jamie to stop fighting. "What are you doing?" she asked, dread in her voice.

"Nothing," her brother said, running a finger over her lips. "I'm just wondering what it'll take to get you to abandon all these notions of celibacy. It's not like it'll do you any good." Jamie gasped at his lewd comment and hit him on the shoulder again.

"Let go of me, Ailil! You're hurting me!"

**SMACK!**

"I thought I told you that Ailil was dead, girl! Do I have to repeat myself?!"

Eyes freakishly dilated bored down on Jamie with all the hate and anger in his soul, reducing her to a pile of unresponsive tissues and bones. She had never seen her brother like this before, not even when he had murdered their parents. He had always been disciplined to manage his anger; this was supposed to be something that _she _couldn't control, not him.

With one last spiteful sneer Mortiferus threw Jamie against the wall and stormed to the door. "I will give you two hours to reconsider my offer," he snarled over his shoulder. "But know this: should you refuse, I will do things to your swordsman that you can't even begin to fathom. The horrors that I will inflict on him will be far beyond that which your imagination can dredge up, and I _know _that you have _plenty _of experience in coming up with worse-case scenarios."

His threat continued as he turned around to face her, his eyes growing darker by the second and his voice raising a few octaves as he began to shout. "I will make him _scream _and _beg _for mercy! I will strip him of _everything _that he has ever valued! I will bring a bloody _hell _upon his body! By the time I'm finished with him, he won't even be recognizable as a man."

The ugly look on Mortiferus's face was replaced with one of extreme cunning and self-satisfaction as he began to chuckle. Jamie shrunk back as the madman laughed, not able to predict anything that he might do. He had stepped way over the boundary of frightening her into her place, no, now he was trying to rob her of her sanity so that she would join him in his mad world. Jamie involuntarily choked out a weak laugh at the thought and quickly silenced herself.

"And Jamie love," Mortiferus purred once he had regained control of himself, "that isn't a threat, it's a promise. You know that I always keep my promises." With a quick turn of his heel he was gone, extinguishing the flames of the candles and fireplace and locking the door behind him. Even as the heavy iron lock fell into place, Jamie was already falling to the floor and allowing her grief to overcome her.

Fresh tears fell down her face as she openly sobbed, regretting that she had ever been born. It would have been better if her parents had killed her that day so long ago instead of showing mercy to her. If only they had finished her off before Ailil had recovered! Jamie sobbed into her arms, knowing that it was time for her to stand up and accept the responsibility that her father had bestowed on her. She wanted nothing to do with it, nothing at all. What Jamie wanted was to have her life back to the way it was, before all the bloodlusts and the rapes. She wanted Tri-Klops and Trapjaw to be safe and nearby and she wanted to go back to Snake Mountain. Most of all though, she wanted to have her brother back, her real brother and not this monster that masqueraded as him.

When she first laid eyes on him she couldn't believe that he was as evil as she had been led to believe, but his recent actions had forced her to see the truth that was laid bare before her eyes. Ailil never would've hurt her - Mortiferus already had on several occasions; Ailil never would've called her names - Mortiferus had; and Ailil would've never looked at Jamie with anything more than brotherly concern - Mortiferus had ogled her with more lust in his eyes than all the men in the world. Her own brother was lusting after her……….

Jamie sobbed harder, all thoughts of being brave and strong having been flushed out of her mind. Who was she fooling? She wasn't brave, she wasn't all that strong, and she certainly wasn't ready to handle this. It was too much for her. _Why does it have to be this way?_ she thought to herself. _Why does everything have to be so hard? I don't want to do this anymore!_ It would've seem that she had given up all hope of ever completing her mission, along with that of escaping. It was strange how so few words, strategically placed, could alter a person's state of mind.

_It's no use,_ she thought despairingly. _This was a mistake. I'm sorry, Father; I failed you. You and everyone else._

* * *

Tri-Klops grimaced as a few drops of water fell on his bare and unprotected back, the icy liquid effectively causing him to flinch with its unexpected contact. The stone floor beneath him was just as cold and so was the air that circulated his cell. Nothing less was expected though, considering the outside conditions. Enormous rats with tusks two inches long scurried about the dungeons, sometimes boldly coming within a foot or two of Tri-Klops and daring to bare their sharp little teeth at him.

A whole assortment of insects crawled about, adding to the cell's already tasteless décor, which consisted of four stone walls and a thick wooden door. There was a wooden bench attached to the wall in the far left corner of the room but nothing else. There weren't even any windows, though this was also to be expected. Food so foul that not even the rodents would attempt to eat it sat on a beaten metal plate in the middle of the floor. It was cold, wet, and just plain miserable. Tri-Klops doubted that there was a worse place in all of Eternia and he would know; he had been in quite a few of them back in what was affectionately referred to as "the day."

The swordsman stood sullenly in the corner of his cell, murderously plotting the deaths of Jädian and Liala, who had betrayed them. Although, it did little good to say that they had "betrayed", for apparently that had been their plan from the beginning. No, "deceived" was a better term. Upon waking up (for he had been knocked unconscious after being kicked rather forcefully in the jaw), Tri-Klops had conspired to somehow break out of the dungeons, find Trapjaw and Jamie, and then find a way to kill off Ailil, her brother.

Unfortunately, this was much more difficult than it sounded; for one thing, all of Tri-Klops's weapons and devices had been taken away, save for his visor; even then its lasers had been effectively disabled. Just knowing that someone had dared to tamper with his headgear set Tri-Klops on edge. He hated it when others touched his inventions, more so when he wasn't even aware of it. To him, such an action was unforgivable and was to be met with a swift and brutal death.

Of course, Tri-Klops partially blamed himself for what had transpired. Had he been more cautious, more alert, he doubted that he would be in the situation that he was now. He felt that he should've known from the very beginning that there had been a trap and that he should've been able to take care of it. The worst part of it was that Tri-Klops _had_ thought that it might've been a ruse but had refused to do anything about it. He had assumed that it was just his usual paranoia trying to get the best of him and had ignored it. Now, he wished he hadn't. Most importantly though, even more significant than his regret over not being more vigilant, Tri-Klops was furious for allowing himself to be beaten by that red-haired man, Jädian.

Now, if nothing else got under his skin, getting slammed in the face by a man who was considerably weaker than he _did_. He was the swordsman of Snake Mountain, for Elders' sake! One of Skeletor's elitist warriors! To have been defeated, outsmarted by another was almost too much to bear. He would carry the shame of the incident to his grave and beyond, just so that no one else would find out. Trapjaw he knew would keep quiet; he was his most trusted confidante, a friend, if you will.

Truly, it wouldn't be entirely improper to say that Tri-Klops and Trapjaw were the best of friends, even though they never showed the type of manly affection towards one another that friends are often known to exhibit. It didn't matter, though, for anyone with eyes and a brain could tell that they were far more respectful of and to each other than towards anyone else on Snake Mountain, save Skeletor and that was only because he was their Master and held their very lives in the palm of his hand; you'd show respect too, if someone had that type of influence over you.

Back to the problem at hand, Tri-Klops honestly didn't know how he was going to get out of that dungeon. He had no resources to speak of and no knowledge of the interior of the castle; even if he managed to get free, he'd be lost without someone to guide him. So immersed was he in his thoughts that the swordsman nearly missed the forceful whisper that was being aimed at him from an adjoining cell. "Trike!" came a hoarse voice. "Trike! Ya there?" Tri-Klops scrambled to the door of his prison, recognizing his comrade's voice.

"Trapjaw?" he asked.

"Trike!" came the elated reply. "Where've ya been?! I've been callin' ya an' callin' ya, but ya didn't answer! You okay in there?" Although he couldn't see him, Tri-Klops knew that Trapjaw was fine, save for any minor scrapes or bruises. The tone of the cyborg's voice was nothing short of overjoyed; apparently he had assumed that Tri-Klops had either perished or had been taken somewhere else.

"I'm fine," Tri-Klops said, reassuring Trapjaw. "I have an idea," he said quietly, hoping that no one else was around to hear him. "Is there any way you can get out? I can't; someone took my sword and disabled my lasers."

"I'm no good either," Trapjaw growled. "Some idiot screwed wit' one o' the servers in my arm an' now the damn thing won't move. I would try an' kick the door down, but with my arm being the way it is I'm off-balance."

"Damn," Tri-Klops cursed under his breath. "If we could just get out of these cells………" Trapjaw laughed hoarsely.

"Don't bother," he said. "It ain't like we'd know what ta do once we got out anyways." Tri-Klops cursed again and punched the wall of his cell, causing no harm except to his own hand, which now throbbed unpleasantly.

"This is all my fault," he said to himself, once again lamenting his folly.

"Ah, shut up, Trike," mumbled Trapjaw sullenly. "It wasn't yer fault and ya know it. Those two could've been tellin' the truth or lyin' and ya wouldn't have been able at tell. Don't beat yerself up over it."

"I still can't help but feel like I've lost somehow," the swordsman grumbled, leaning up against the wall. "For one thing, I have no clue where we are or how we're going to get out of here. Secondly, I don't know where Jamie is. I hate to think of what's happening to her." Tri-Klops was being perfectly truthful; he _didn't_ want to think about what was happening to her, mainly because the possibilities were endless. For all he knew, Jamie could've been beaten, raped, tortured, mangled, or transfigured. None of those things offered any comfort to him, so he just shut them all out of his mind. He preferred to think that wherever Jamie was, she perfectly fine, albeit shaken, and awaiting rescue.

"Surely there's _someway_ out of this place," Tri-Klops said, turning his thoughts to escape, which was still a touchy subject, but one much more inviting than that of Jamie's whereabouts.

"Yer askin' fer a miracle," said Trapjaw as he vainly pushed on the thick door, attempting to budge it. "There's no way outta this hellhole, not unless we git some help from the outside or somethin'."

"Yeah, like that'll ever happen," Tri-Klops sneered. Help from the outside………that was highly unlikely, especially since the only ones who might've been outside were Liala, Jädian, and the ever-elusive Ailil, all of whom would probably kill Tri-Klops and Trapjaw as soon as look at them. Help from without was as unlikely as a complete and total surrender of Eternos. Virtually impossible, thought not entirely improbable. Theoretically, it _could_ happen. Theoretically, mind you.

"We'll just have to think of something," Tri-Klops said tiredly, suddenly feeling so much older than he really was. "We need to get out of here, for Jamie's sake if nothing else." Trapjaw nodded, even though Tri-Klops couldn't see him, knowing very well that terrible things could be happening to her at that very moment. The worry in Tri-Klops's voice was a clear indicator that the man was bothered by his inability to help her, as well as being trapped within four enclosed walls with no chance of escape. There was no way that they could break out on their own without the use of their weapons, help from the outside wasn't happening, and Skeletor was in Snake Mountain and unaware of what was happening.

Things were looking bleak indeed.

* * *

_Snake Mountain_………

Snake Mountain was once again being ravaged. Not by the usual foes from Eternos, those damned "Masters", but by a far more vicious and virtually unstoppable force that was best known as Skeletor's Wrath. It wasn't the usual mercilessly-blast-the-minions-into-the-wall routine, but its lesser seen and far more violent counterpart, destroy-everything-in-sight-and-blow-it-all-into-itty-bitty-unrepairable-pieces. Suffice to say, Skeletor was pissed.

As per usual, things were a mess. Chunks of the cave ceiling continued to fall to the ground, even after the initial blast, and entire stalactites had been ripped from of their foundations and thrown across the room. Small creatures that made their dwellings in the crevices in the ground scurried about in a panic, searching for someplace, any place that could further shield them from the madness that was taking place. Rubble littered the ground, a silent testimony of the once intact wall that had stood in its place. Silent, other than Skeletor's outraged ranting.

"Fools!" he roared, brandishing his fist around. "Absolute imbeciles! Can they do nothing right?!" The ram's skull atop his Havoc Staff began to spark and glow as Skeletor's fury escalated, incarnating itself into a tangible and deadly form. The very walls of the cavern seemed to shrink back in the dimming light, as if they knew the reason for Skeletor's anger and were attempting to remove themselves from within his blasting range. This illusion was quickly shattered as pale purple energy shot forth from the staff, completely obliterating an entire group of rock formations and sending the shards flying in every direction.

Skeletor cursed roundly at the ill-fated luck of his minions as well as his own; of course, it _would_ be that there was a layer of very old and powerful magic surrounding the castle, disrupting any outside spells that came too near. It was so cliché that Skeletor should have expected it, but he hadn't. He had been way too immersed in what he thought was going to be an easy, yet fascinating victory over Jamie's brother. In fact, he had anticipated that his minions would dispatch Ailil upon arrival, uncover the mystery of Jamie's supposed immortality, and bring the secret back to him. How wrong he had been, and it irritated him to no extent.

Evil-lyn appeared to be only mildly annoyed at a minor setback, though inside she was seething as violently as Skeletor. Her sharp nails tapped against her staff and the toe of her boot beat out a rhythm on the floor, belying her cool exterior. "Those idiots," she hissed lowly, ducking as a chunk of cave wall sailed over her head. "They should've known better, especially Tri-Klops. Calm down, Skeletor," she added, seeing that the lord of Snake Mountain was about to unleash yet _another_ volley of his frustrations on the innocent rocks. "The mountain can only take so much before it collapses," she mumbled sensibly, causing Skeletor to lower his Havoc Staff. He may have looked subdued, but his eye sockets were still blazing angrily.

"What now?" he growled as he stalked up the stairs to his throne, throwing himself into the stone seat. Evil-lyn shrugged, still glaring at the empty space where, previously, one of her magic rings had hovered, allowing her to follow every move made by Jamie, Trapjaw, and Tri-Klops. The ring was referred to in the past tense due to the fact that its power had been disrupted by a far more powerful spell. The two magic users were angry for two different reasons: Skeletor, because he could no longer view what was going on, and Evil-lyn because she was forced to admit the possibility of Jamie's brother being a lot more powerful than she had at first anticipated. Of course, there was no doubt in her mind that it had been Ailil who had caused her spell to backfire; who else could it have been?

"There has to be _something_ that can be done," Skeletor mused, absentmindedly petting Panthor on his sleek head. The giant purple feline closed his eyes and purred, his only concern being that his master not cease in scratching that spot that was right………behind………his………ears.

As Skeletor sulked, Evil-lyn paced across the room, thinking. Another spell was completely out of the question, unless it was strong enough to slip past the magical barrier that surrounded the castle. Even if she could summon up the necessary amount of energy that it would take to cast such a spell, there was its nature to take into account as well.

Should it be offensive or defensive? A messenger or a spy? How big? How small? Would anyone notice it? Would it endanger Tri-Klops and the others? There were too many things to consider and Evil-lyn was so tired……… Before she knew it, the witch stumbled and lost her balance, hitting the floor harder than what was profitable to her health. She was absolutely exhausted, not only from the forceful rebound of magic, but also from the strain of having to cast such a far-reaching spell. It wasn't an easy task, to be sure.

Before she could even begin to make another attempt at standing, a pair of strong arms were around her back and underneath her knees, lifting her into the air. "Really now, Evil-lyn," snapped Skeletor as he carried the witch to her chaise lounge, depositing her upon its cushions as if she were no more than one of Beastman's smelly pets. "Do try not to faint, _my dear_." he said, sounding very much like he didn't want to deal with an unconscious Evil-lyn. Not that anyone could blame him.

"You try standing up after a recoil like that," she retorted, wishing that she could get away with cracking Skeletor upside his skull head with her staff. She didn't appreciate being dumped (albeit onto something soft, as opposed to the hard and rocky ground) anymore than she appreciated being ridiculed. The fact that he had even thought to carry her somewhere more comfortable should've astounded her, but the overall effect was, however, damaged and thereby lessened by his cavalier attitude. _Bastard,_ she thought, but refused to say out loud.

Skeletor, instead of going back to his throne to mope, chose to do so closer to Evil-lyn. As a general rule, his minions looked after themselves, but even Skeletor didn't want to deal with a life-threatening situation. It would mean finding a new replacement, for one thing, and he despised what he called "auditions". It was a slap in the face of his reputation as Overlord of Evil. Besides, Evil-lyn, like several others, was far too valuable for him to successfully replace. He'd prefer that she stay alive for a very long time instead of keeling over, thank you very much.

Leaning against one of the naturally formed columns that had managed to escape his tantrum unscathed, Skeletor painted the very picture of nonchalance. On the outside he looked relaxed, perhaps even content, but deep within the dark, twisted corridors of his mind, he was plotting. How could he possibly fix the mess that his lackeys had gotten themselves into? Nothing came to mind that didn't involve a loaded full-frontal assault, and that was completely out of the question; Skeletor didn't want to risk losing anymore men (or women, as it were).

What he wished he could do was unexpectedly show up at Ailil's front door, invite himself in, kill the whelp for putting him through so much trouble and aggravation, and discover the secret of immortality himself. Tri-Klops and Trapjaw had already proved themselves to be incapable of retrieving that bit of information and Skeletor could no longer be bothered with waiting for them. Action needed to be taken.

_I should've gone in their places,_ he thought, wishing that time could be undone. Evil-lyn had told Skeletor that Jamie had thrown a fit when she had realized that he wasn't going to be accompanying her; apparently she had expected him to take care of all her problems for her. Whereas at first he had sneered at Jamie's stupidity, Skeletor now groaned over his decision to remain behind while sending forth two of his "best" warriors; he was beginning to doubt their abilities. _I should have gone,_ he thought again, beating himself over the head with a mental stick.

He was about to do it again when an idea struck him instead; hard, fast, and delightfully ingenious, Skeletor took the time to mull the thing over. Was it worth the risk? Would it even work? The preparations wouldn't be easy and several components would be needed, but it _could_ be done. Oh yes, it was most definitely accomplishable. Skeletor liked it. True to form, he began to cackle maniacally as he pushed himself away from the pillar and walked back to the base of his throne. Evil-lyn, not quite recovered from her swoon, stared at him wearily as he passed by. "What now?" she asked, her voice tired and noncommittal.

"My _dear_ Evil-lyn," purred Skeletor gleefully, "I thought you'd _never_ ask!"

* * *

**A/N:** I didn't like this chapter too much, but after a careful revision, I've come to accept it as one of my own. I'm sorry that it took so long to get out. Take my advice and never get a job; just play the lotto until you win. Life will be easier that way. Enjoy!


	20. Tortured

Work sucks. I recommend that every last one of you marry someone richer than Bill Gates and live off of him/her for the rest of your lives. Once again, I apologize (read: grovel at your feet for forgiveness) for the wait in between chapters, but this one could not be written until I had gone back into chapters eight and ten and fixed a few errors. I had worked myself into a plothole. Figures.

**Eva91 - **Thanks again for the lovely e-mail. You help me in ways you'll never know. **:hugs:**

**Ebby - **I love you too (as a reviewer). I promise that I'll see this through to the very end. I have no intentions on giving it up, and I appreciate your faith in my abilities as a writer.

**HitokiriKurisuta - **I'm so glad that you waited 'til now to read. Your review really encouraged me to finish the chapter, so thanks a ton. I appreciate your dedication, patience, and insights /sappy stuff.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own He-man and the Masters of the Universe (2002), but I do own Jamie/Reaper, Ailil/Mortiferus, and anyone else not recognizable to the He-man world.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

**Tortured**

* * *

A great set of spiral stairs led down to the dungeons, much to Mortiferus' dismay. He didn't know the previous owner of the castle, but whoever it had been, it was obvious that he had harbored a fetish for all things dark and swirly. The castle structure itself was circular, and all the corridors and rooms were connected in one long, continuous helix. The only downside was that one could achieve a horrible feeling of repetition as well as a dizzying headache from, literally, walking around in circles. Mortiferus wasn't complaining, of course, for the echoing of his boots created quite the dramatic climax as he traipsed down those dreadful stairs.

He knew that by the time he reached to heavy doors of the dungeons that his prisoners would be cowering on the other side, terrified of their inevitable fate. It was always more or less the same thing: first came interrogation, which really served no purpose other than Mortiferus' amusement. Then came the torture, which was as violent and brutal as Mortiferus deemed it; he always began with the little things, like thumbscrews and worked his way up to the cat-o'-nine-tails. Finally, as if the torment hadn't been enough, the prisoner was subjected to a slow and horrifically painful death. That was the way that things had always been done, and it would probably be the way that things were to be done in the distant future.

Mortiferus caught himself whistling as he neared the doors of the dungeon and his thoughts automatically and inexplicably turned to Tri-Klops. Aside from the obvious of being one of Skeletor's finest, Tri-Klops was so different from the usual prisoners. He was not weak and neither was he afraid of what was to come. He did not beg for mercy or forgiveness nor did he even expect them. He wasn't pathetic like the regulars. That's what had enticed Mortiferus in the first place; the swordsman's entire demeanor was magnetic, attracting the attention of the very man that he had sought to kill. Of course, Mortiferus was also attracted to the physicality of Tri-Klops, who had a lovely specimen of a body. He longed to touch and claim every inch of the swordsman's being, and wondered if his attempts would be met with much resistance.

Mortiferus hadn't forgotten his sister's attraction to this man either, but her interest only fueled his own curiosity; what could she possibly see in him? Was it his body or was there more to him than just that? It was obvious that the man had a good head on his shoulders, but was intelligence really all that important? Surely he had other skills than just being smart. Mortiferus ached to find out. He ached for other things too, but for now he was only interested in obtaining information, if there was any to be had.

The heavy wooden door gave way at a mere, dainty twirl of Mortiferus' wrist and he exuberantly bounced into the room, startling one of his guards in the process. "Leave," he commanded gaily, his tone light and cheerful; the man left immediately, knowing full well that when his master was in a good mood, _anything _was bound to happen.

"Well, well, well," Mortiferus said to himself, "what have we here?"

What he had were two very disgruntled warriors who looked extremely put off. One couldn't blame them, of course, seeing as how they were attached to the wall with a respectable five feet of distance in between them. Tri-Klops looked the worse for wear, but Trapjaw was the more badly injured. Both men had lifted their heads when Mortiferus had entered the room, most likely wishing that they could kill with their eyes. He had the feeling that if that were at all possible, he'd be deader than a serpentor in a dragon's nest.

Not unused to feeling unwelcome in his own dungeon, Mortiferus still felt that he had complete control over the situation and was he was actually looking forward to an interrogation. Now, the fun part for him was that he didn't have to worry about restraining devices while he worked; there were no chains within his dungeons, no, Mortiferus used only magic to hold his prisoners captive, other than the cells. Magic was far more effective, in his opinion, for a man in chains could still move about, albeit in a very restricted manner.

Not about to have his fun ruined by his silent "guests," for they had refused to acknowledge his presence, Mortiferus strutted up to Tri-Klops slapped him soundly across the face. His action produced no effect other than a pink tinge to Tri-Klops' cheek. "What a boring man," Mortiferus sighed dramatically as he turned towards Trapjaw. "You, on the other hand," he continued, "look to be a far more interesting subject. Tell, what would you say to me taking apart that bionic arm of yours?"

"Go ta hell!"

"Oh yes!" Mortiferus cried out, merrily clapping his hands together. "I do like you. You're much more reactive, aren't you? However, you're not my point of interest." With a snap of his fingers, Mortiferus had somehow deposited Trapjaw back into his cell.

"What I want," Mortiferus purred, "is you, dear Tri-Klops. Do you know why?" As before, there was no answer, only a solemn glare. At least, Mortiferus could only guess that he was being glared at. He couldn't see through things and certainly not through the visor that the swordsman wore about his head. Speaking of which, it was such an unattractive piece of metal; Mortiferus wondered why he wore it when he was sure that there were simpler designs to be constructed.

"You'd do well to answer me," the deranged mage whispered, intruding into Tri-Klops' personal space farther than what was acceptable between two men who weren't lovers.

"I don't like to be ignored."

Still, there was no reply.

"Very well, then I shall make you speak."

As soon as the words were spoken, long, elegant fingers began to feel their way up a tan and scar-riddled chest, stroking every inch of skin that they came into contact with. These fingers prodded and probed the planes of an abdomen and tickled the ribs of the upper torso. Muscles were traced and tested as Mortiferus pressed on, thoroughly enjoying the contact.

Already he was beginning to feel the faint traces of desire run through him and he wondered if it would be prudent to kiss the swordsman. Elders knew that he wanted nothing more at the moment; Elders knew that it had been a while since he had last had someone in his bed. _No, no,_ he thought to himself, _mustn't be impatient. Business before pleasure, as per usual_. It was no matter what his body wanted, though, because Mortiferus had finally gotten the reaction that he had wanted.

"Don't touch me!" Tri-Klops hissed through clenched teeth; one could almost see his muscles straining as he tried to jerk away from Mortiferus' caresses, only to find that he couldn't move an inch to save his life.

"Oh, so you _can _speak!" the sorcerer cried out joyfully. "I was beginning to wonder if I was wasting my time."

Tri-Klops gave a revolted shudder as he unsuccessfully attempted to force away the eerie sensation of Mortiferus' fingers on his skin. He felt strangely violated and undeniably vulnerable, two emotions that he didn't care for one iota, and more so if they were mixed together. Tri-Klops was used to being in charge and in control of many things, but being in the position that he was in worried him greatly. From what he had gathered from Jamie, and from what he had just experienced, Mortiferus was completely unpredictable, as well as insane. That also concerned him; Tri-Klops didn't like being unable to foretell his opponents.

"So," Mortiferus purred, "are you going to cooperate?" There was no answer, but Jamie's estranged brother didn't let that discourage him. "Please?" he wheedled, sticking out his lower lip. "Just a _few_ questions?" When his query was met with silence, he proceeded anyways, not ever missing a beat or batting an eye. "I want to know why you agreed to help my sister. Was it curiosity towards the unknown? Loyalty to Skeletor? A yearning for adventure? Lust for the girl?"

Tri-Klops clenched his jaw even tighter, refusing to give in to the madman's ridiculous (and totally preposterous, although a couple weren't too far off) accusations. He would not allow himself to give out any pertinent information. "Oh, come, come now," Mortiferus sighed, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion, "you're being absolutely absurd. The least you could do is _acknowledge_ that I'm speaking to you!"

_Don't let him goad you on,_ Tri-Klops coached himself. A random outburst of sarcasm would only spur Mortiferus on, and that was the last thing that Tri-Klops wanted. "You're no fun," his captor pouted, crossing his arms like a spoilt child. "It looks like I'm going to have to resort to drastic measures to get you to cooperate with me."

Before Tri-Klops had time to even ponder the nature of said drastic measures, Mortiferus had already made his move. His arms slid around Tri-Klops' waist, pulling the inert man close. His lips began to roam across a broad shoulder in sensual caresses, barely kissing the flesh. Tri-Klops tried not to shout, but when he was once again reminded that he was unable to move, he became a bit more vocal.

"Get off," he mumbled lowly, still trying to keep his head.

"Can't hear you!" Mortiferus sang back. Fingers were beginning to creep up his back and the swordsman shuddered.

"Get off, _now_," he attempted.

"Nope."

A warm, wet tongue sneaked out from between strangely feminine lips and licked an exposed nipple; Tri-Klops blew his top.

"GET OFF OF ME!" he shouted, appalled at what had just happened.

"Ah, he speaks," Mortiferus carelessly remarked as he stepped away from Tri-Klops. His attitude suggested that he had been doing nothing wrong, and was totally innocent. "Now tell me," he pressed, "what is it that you feel for my sister?"

"What's it to you?" Tri-Klops retorted, sickened with the physical contact that he had just had with the other man.

"She's my sister, and I have a right to know."

Tri-Klops just couldn't bring himself to believe that this was all real. He was sure that he was hallucinating some of it, because no one that he had ever known had ever tortured a man like Mortiferus claimed to be doing. In fact, this couldn't even be called "torture." It was far too light-hearted (mostly coming from Mortiferus' side) to be something so serious. The point was that Mortiferus was unabashed at the prospect of touching others, even those of his own gender.

"Please, no lying now," Mortiferus coaxed. "I just want to know how you feel."

"We're acquaintances, nothing more."

"I thought I just said, 'no lying'; weren't you paying attention?"

"I'm not lying."

"Puh-leese, I've seen the way she looks at you."

"Many women have looked at me that way."

"Perhaps, but I'm willing to bet that _you've_ never before returned the favor."

"I have."

"Not like this."

With each exchange of words, Mortiferus' expression grew darker and more violent, while still retaining its mask of cheerfulness, minus the charming smile. That was what gave it away. That and his eyes, which were beginning to dilate to an impossibly wide degree. Tri-Klops was almost positive that there was something medically wrong with the man, for his pupils to grow so huge. Mortiferus had also clenched his hand into a white-knuckled fist, and he looked as if he would use it, too. On top of being felt up, Tri-Klops was not relishing the idea of getting punched.

"You know," Mortiferus bit out, finally tired of playing Mr. Nice, "I'm not too inclined to like you at the moment."

"No," Tri-Klops said, "I _don't_ know. Enlighten me."

"You stole my sister's affections for me."

There it was; the crux of the problem, and oh, how predictable it might have been, if Mortiferus had been prone to being conventional. He was jealous. Jealous of the attention that was given to Jamie, and even more envious of the attention that she dispensed. In fact, judging from the way that his breathing was coming in short, irregular bursts, Tri-Klops would've said that Mortiferus was absolutely _hating_ it. Although he understood that siblings grew jealous of external party members vying for the attention of their brethren, Tri-Klops personally thought that Mortiferus was taking things a bit too far. It was pitiable that he had assumed that Mortiferus' concern for Jamie was nothing but brotherly.

"Whatever affections Jamie has for me," Tri-Klops asserted, "they're freely given."

"No," Mortiferus rasped, a rather wild look in his eyes. "She should care for me! Not for you or anyone else, but _me_!"

"You drove her away."

**KRAK!**

Just as he had predicted, Mortiferus struck Tri-Klops across the face, though with a lot more force than what had been expected. It hurt like hell, but he still had nothing on Skeletor, who was well known for his right hook. Tri-Klops still felt the horrible ache in his jaw, though, and something that felt suspiciously like blood was running down his chin from what was obviously a split lip.

"WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!" Mortiferus shrieked, the last shards of his cheerful façade finally tossed aside. "You know _nothing _of what happened! _Nothing_!"

"I know that you murdered your parents; that was a good enough reason for her to leave."

"They………brought it upon themselves."

"As did you."

**KRAK!**

Another hit, practically to the same spot, and Tri-Klops's head was snapping backwards again. By the time he gathered his bearings (and when the stars had stopped blinking at him; they were very bright and annoying, those stars), Mortiferus had changed positions and was standing in a corner, presumably trying to get a hold of himself.

Mortiferus was absolutely furious with himself. He was _supposed _to be torturing Tri-Klops, not the other way around. Yet, here he was, allowing himself to be provoked in such an ungainly and embarrassing manner. Never before had he let his prisoners affect him like this. Then again, none of the other prisoners had ever been so closely involved with his sister. Tilting his head back, Mortiferus covered his face with one hand and closed his eyes, forcing the image of a beaten, yet smug swordsman out of his mind and replaced it with one of Jamie. _How utterly pathetic of me,_ he thought, grinning wryly beneath his hand. _I can't allow this to go on_………

Turning around to face his defiant captive, Mortiferus put on his most winning smile, even if the effect was ruined by his tone of voice. "You're beginning to irritate me more than I had expected you would," he said with forced politeness. "You already know that I don't like you. You also know that I enjoy hurting others, and I happen to be exceptionally talented at it. Why then, do you insist on pushing me past my limits?"

Tri-Klops didn't answer for two reasons: one, his jaw was still aching, and ached so much more whenever he moved it. Second, he wasn't quite sure that he understood the question. He was irritating Mortiferus, but how? All he had done so far was answer his questions. Sure, there had been a little banter, but nothing to get so overheated by. It almost seemed like Mortiferus was trying to shift the blame for his little outburst on Tri-Klops, instead of taking the responsibility himself. It was just so _odd_, all of it.

"You also know that I don't take too kindly to strangers who dare to fraternize with my sister, yet you continue to affiliate yourself with her, as if you were lovers or something."

That was going a bit too far for Tri-Klops's liking.

"I am most certainly _not_ her lover," he growled, "and I have no desire to be in any such relation with her."

"That's where you're _wrong_!" The statement was practically an ecstatic shout, and painfully sounded as if it were rehearsed. Mortiferus was pointing in Tri-Klops' direction with an outstretched finger and an accusing expression on his face; clearly he was enjoying this. "You're lying and I can feel it," he continued on, now pacing back and forth in front of his prisoner. "I don't see why you would stick by her side for so long unless it was by direct orders, which weren't given to you, I might add. You could've tortured her for the information to my whereabouts and then killed her, but you allowed her to lead you onward, even after the incident at Blackmere. I was so _sure _that you would've killed her after that."

"I don't understand why everything leads back to Jamie," Tri-Klops said angrily. "There are far more important things that you could be asking me. Why is she constantly the topic of choice?"

"If you haven't figured it out by now," Mortiferus said, apparently unimpressed with Tri-Klops' analytical skills, "then you're more imbecilic than I thought, and, therefore, even _more _undeserving of Jamie's devotion."

"I'm not following you."

"Obviously. You're not as intelligent as I had first believed."

"Like I said, enlighten me."

"Fine; I'll put it in blunt terms for you. I want to fuck her. There, I said it. Are you happy?"

Although incest was not uncommon in some of the less civilized areas of Eternia, it certainly was frowned upon. In fact, Tri-Klops found it downright despicable, and in this certain case, nausea-inducing. Forcing down a gag, Tri-Klops shook his head to clear his mind of some very disturbing mental images and spoke to Mortiferus. "You're a sick and twisted bastard," he spat, wishing that he could get his hands around the other man's neck. "What're you planning to do to her?"

Mortiferus laughed gaily after that, possibly at the tic that was going in Tri-Klops' cheek. Gone were the dilated pupils and gone was the sinister expression. All of his anger, his jealously, seemed to have vanished, just like that. Under different circumstances, it would have been positively amazing to watch the rapid personality changes that Mortiferus was going through. "I'm not going to tell you _that_!" he giggled. "It's rude to ask about what activities a man and a woman participate in behind closed doors!"

"Bastard!"

"Yes, we've established that already."

Tri-Klops couldn't remember a time when he had been angrier than he was now. Shock had quickly subsided, which had left room for rage and disgust to take over. He wanted to wipe the smug smirk off of Mortiferus' face once and for all; he wanted to prevent anything from happening to Jamie. She wouldn't recover from the traumatic experience of being raped by her own brother (even though Tri-Klops knew for a fact that she'd do everything within her power to resist him). The psychological damage would be great as well.

"You look jealous," Mortiferus smirked, taunting the swordsman.

"I don't know what games you're playing," Tri-Klops said a low voice, "but I _will_ kill you; make no mistake about that."

"I'm petrified."

"It's a promise."

"Mmhm, I'm sure. Look, not that this wasn't lovely, but you're beginning to bore me and I _really _have somewhere else to be."

Mortiferus flounced up to his prisoner and gave him a quick peck on the lips before anything else could be said. "I'll be back later," he whispered, his fingers lingering on the front of Tri-Klops's kilt. "And when I do, you'll wish that you had never even been born into this world. Understand, love?" Tri-Klops had once again struck up his silent act (either that or he was in shock over having just been kissed by a man), so Mortiferus shrugged and kissed him again. "It's fine by me," he said, "but I'll have you do more than _talking_ when I get you alone in my bed."

"You can try."

"Hmph. Meanie."

One last kiss, with tongue, and Mortiferus was gone, having practically fled the room. As the door closed behind his retreating figure, Tri-Klops felt the pressure in the room drop before he was all of the sudden tossed back into his cell. He landed hard, but was uninjured, save for a few bruises, a headache, and his split lip from before. It hadn't been _too_ bad. Now if he could only get that man's touch out of his head, everything would be almost fine. Tri-Klops spat on the floor of his confinement (to get rid of the blood and also to erase the last traces of Mortiferus from his mouth) and wiped his lips with the back of his hand; it came away covered in blood.

Tri-Klops couldn't see how Jamie was related to that man. Coinciding physical attributes aside, there was no possible way that she was in any way, shape, or form related to him by blood. Tri-Klops just couldn't see it! Even comparing facial features would only get a person so far; the high cheekbones, sort of, and maybe even their smile (though whereas Jamie's was usually apologetic or mischievous, Mortiferus' was evil and insane). They had a couple of expressions that seemed to be the same, like frowning and pouting, but other than that there was nothing else that might link them together as siblings. A stranger certainly wouldn't have been able to tell.

"Bastard," Tri-Klops sulked, a little louder than what was normal for him when cursing.

"You okay in there?" came a weary, yet curious voice from the next cell over.

"I'm fine," Tri-Klops lied, wondering if Trapjaw had heard anything that had happened.

"He didn't hurt ya or nothin'?"

"No."

"Now what?"

"We need to get out of here, find Jamie, and Kill Mortiferus."

"Same ol', same ol'. How do we do this?"

"I'm not sure………"

* * *

_One week later………_

Jamie looked down at her plate unenthusiastically. She wasn't hungry and she didn't really feel like eating. It wasn't that the food looked unappetizing, because it _did_. Jamie was just stressed. She was stressed from worry, mostly, especially worry over Tri-Klops and Trapjaw. It had been a week since Mortiferus had first given her the ultimatum of dinner with him or the torture and eventual death of Tri-Klops, and while her stomach had eventually betrayed her with its incessant grumbling for nourishment, Jamie was still mentally defying her brother.

With every bite of food that passed through her lips, she swore that she'd stand up to his tyranny. She promised herself that he would pay sevenfold for any humiliation that she or her comrades suffered. So far, Mortiferus' list was racking up pretty high, and so far, Jamie had neglected to carry through with her unspoken threat. She tried to justify her inactivity to herself, saying that she needed to wait for an opportune moment, one which hadn't arrived yet.

Jamie had never been a very good liar, though, and was unable to convince herself of this. Her guilt began to eat away at her like some type of corrosive acid, and she began to lose her appetite for just about anything that required movement. So it was that Jamie found herself staring into the murky depths of an unnamed soup. Grimacing, she nudged it out of her way with her elbow, catching the undesired attention of Mortiferus.

"What's wrong, Jamie my love?" he asked, wiping his chin with a crisp white cloth. "Is the food not to your liking?"

Jamie shook her head but said nothing. Mortiferus, although concerned for her health, elected to leave his sister alone for the time being. After all, she was adjusting so well on her own. Nonetheless, he fell back to his dinner with subdued enthusiasm; it didn't look so edible anymore. He knew, however, that it would only be a matter of time before Jamie opted to ask her question.

"Mortiferus?" she finally ventured, after a full ten minutes of silence. Her brother responded with a tilt of his head and a quizzical glance.

"What is it, my dear?"

"I just………why am I here?"

Mortiferus chuckled. "You're here because I invited you to be! Has your memory really become that deficient?" Jamie sighed heavily and slumped back into her chair. There were small dark circles under her eyes and her face looked worn and drawn, like she wasn't getting enough sleep. And she wasn't.

"No," she said, "I meant, why am I not being held in the dungeons? After all, I _was_ trying to kill you."

"You're family!" exclaimed Mortiferus in surprise. "Why wouldn't I treat you as such?"

"Mortiferus," she reiterated, not quite believing that Mortiferus was willing to brush off such a serious thing, "I tried to _kill_ you."

"A small detail that I can overlook in light of other events."

"What do you mean?" Jamie's tone was borderline dread; she did _not_ like the way that Mortiferus was looking at her. There was too much cunning in her eyes, too much smirk on his lips. She was quite sure that she didn't want to know what was going through his mind, and she was even more certain that she didn't care one whit about what he was going to say next.

"Oh, I suppose that it _is_ time that you know the truth," Mortiferus sighed. "The question is, do you think that you can handle it?" Jamie narrowed her eyes.

"I can take it."

Mortiferus smirked and slouched back in his chair.

"I suppose it all began with the islands," he said lazily. "But then, everything that has happened to us can somehow be traced back to islands, so this is no surprise. Let's see, where to begin………Oh yes; I had found this amulet. Not an ordinary trinket, mind you, but one of extraordinary power. I however, was unaware of this at the time. It was of a fairly good size, about the length of your thumb, and was green in color. It was big, it was shiny, and it looked pretty; can you blame me for wearing it about my neck?

I kept the amulet for about two or three months, and it wasn't until I fell off of a cliff that I realized something strange. Now, this cliff was no laughing matter; it was about as high as the outermost wall of Eternos, so you can imagine how perilous a drop was. I had tripped on a loose rock and fell. I fell for what seemed like several minutes. I imagine that I hit the ground and was immediately rendered unconscious, because the next thing I remember was waking up on my back.

Miraculously, I was still alive. I was alive when every law of nature would have decreed me dead. There was no way that I should've survived; I had no _right_ to be alive. When I returned home, I said nothing to Father; he didn't need to know what had happened."

"I don't believe you," interrupted Jamie. "Of course you'd be dead if you fell from such a height. You're lying; I know you are." Mortiferus glared in Jamie's direction, resisting the urge to slap her across her face.

"When have I ever lied to you?" he asked of her. The unspoken, "that you know about" hung in the air, untouched.

Jamie laughed and said, "You're going to offer me some pretty sound proof if you want me to believe that load."

Snarling, Mortiferus stood up and stormed around the table to stand right next to Jamie. He yanked her upright before turning around and removing his tunic. As the clothing fell to the floor and his skin was revealed, Jamie let out a cry of dismay and moved back, away from her brother. His back………his back was a mangled piece of flesh, scarred more horribly than anything that Jamie had ever seen before.

The flesh was twisted in some places, while other spots seemed to be missing entire chunks of skin. The scars were a dark, mottled brown and looked very, very old. "Touch them," Mortiferus demanded over his shoulder. "You wanted proof and I offer it to you, so _touch them_!" Jamie shook her head, eyes wide with disgust as she took a little step backwards. In a flash, Mortiferus had grabbed her wrist in an iron grip and pulled it forcefully to his disfigured flesh.

"No!" Jamie shouted, trying to pull away.

Mortiferus sneered at her as he let go of her arm and she went crashing to the floor. "I do hope that you're satisfied," he said mockingly.

"H-how is that puh-possible?!" Jamie asked, still horrified as she pulled herself back up into her seat.

"It isn't," her brother sighed. "That's what I've been trying to make you understand. It _isn't_ possible that I could've survived such a fall, but I did. Even the blood that I had lost was somehow drawn back into my veins."

"But _how_?"

"Don't you know yet? Haven't you pieced it together?"

Jamie lowered her head, thinking as hard as she could. The obvious and easy answer was magic. There had to have been some type of magic at work in that particular area. But what type of magic? It would've had to have been something that acted on its own, or something that had been set up. _But magic isn't alive,_ Jamie thought. _It _can't _act on its own_. What then? How could've he survived such a fall with only his back scarred? The only other thing she could think of was that he would have to have………

Jamie whipped her head up to stare at Mortiferus with something like awe in her eyes. "Ah, so you see now, yes?" he asked, hands laced together behind his back. "You understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

"Mortiferus," she said, laughing shakily, "you can't be immortal. You just _can't_. That's impossible."

"So was falling from a three-thousand foot cliff and surviving."

"Mortiferus," she pleaded, "it can't be true. Please, tell me it isn't true!"

"Why are you so determined to prove me wrong?"

"Because it would mean that………that I'm………"

Mortiferus laughed heartily, enjoying his moment of triumph. "So you've already figured it out, have you?" he asked. "You remember the little green stone that I gave you for your seventeenth birthday? The one that you wore around your neck for a week before it disappeared?"

"The stone did it." Jamie said, shaking her head, as if trying to deny the very words that came out of her mouth. She was going into shock, into denial; she didn't want to believe it. She couldn't.

"What's wrong now?" Mortiferus asked, still smiling in that eerie way of his. "Why do you look so frightened?"

"I lived in that village for just about sixty years?" she asked, fear and confusion all over her face. "For sixty years?!"

"Surely you wondered why the people of that town came and went so quickly." he said, trying to provoke her mind into thinking on its own. "You didn't notice how they aged so quickly? How they were there one 'year' and gone the next? You never noticed or wondered?"

"Shut up!" Jamie screeched, covering her ears with her hands. "I don't want to hear anymore!"

"It's too late for that!" Mortiferus bellowed, grabbing his sister by her upper arms and hauling her to him. "Embrace your past," he ordered, "or you'll never be rid of it!" His eyes were cold and his voice demanding; he was asking her to do the one thing that she knew she never could do. She could never give up her past or put it behind her. It was all she had left. It defined her, made her who she was. Her past was what made her _human_.

"Leave me alone, you bastard!" she yelped, pushing away from Mortiferus. "Just leave me alone!"

"Get a hold of yourself!" he shouted back, shaking her. "There is one last thing that we need to discuss."

"There's nothing left to discuss. Nothing."

"Oh, but that is where you're wrong, dear sister," Mortiferus said, pointing at her in a very chastising fashion. It was as if he were correcting her for having uttered a blasphemous word under her breath. "You see, the amulet had a very specific set of directions for those that it bestowed the gift of immortality on. The stone wanted, no, _needed_ an army of immortals to do its bidding."

"That's silly," Jamie said, walking around the table, away from Mortiferus. "How can a stone want things or give orders? It's just a rock."

"We're not dealing with any ordinary rock, Jamie! It has a soul, an evil soul, but a soul nonetheless. It has thoughts, ambitions, and desires. It knows things, Jamie. Things that no one but the dead should know. It's alive, and it's been alive for a very long time. It _needs _us, Jamie."

"For what?" she cried. "What could some dumb rock possibly want with us?" Her shoulders were beginning to quake, a sure sign that she was ready to cry again. This was the second revelation that she had had within just as many weeks and it was really doing a number on her emotional drive. "I don't understand any of this!" she yelled, bringing both fists down on the table with a loud **BANG!**

"The amulet needs us to make more immortals, soldiers to do its will."

"So? Just go make more people wear the damn thing! Turn others immortal! What has this got to do with _me_?"

"Everything, my love." Mortiferus licked his lips, which were suddenly all too dry. His hands clenched by his sides and his chest felt like it might burst with all the excitement. "You see, we're living on borrowed time. The amulet gave each of us approximately one hundred years to prepare an army. If our duty hasn't been completed by the time that those one hundred years are up, we lose our immortality. We go back to being normal."

"I swore no such allegiance." Jamie spat, looking a little alarmed. "And I still don't see why you couldn't have used the amulet to make an army yourself."

"Because the amulet only has enough power in it to convert three or four people a year. If you take the seventy-seven years that I've been immortal and multiply that by four, you only get three hundred and eight. That's not much of an army. However, if the four people who were turned immortal in the first place got together (and let's say that there was one man and three women) and decided to make their _own _armies………"

"Mortiferus? What the hell are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that if the ratio of every four immortals per year was three-to-one, female-to-male, then the odds of each female getting pregnant and having a child would be greater. That's three children who would be immortal by default! Because of their parents, the immortality would be passed down unto them! They would stop growing older at a certain age, and they could be taught how to fight, how to obey orders! The amulet would have its army!"

"Stop," Jamie whispered, horrified. "Just stop it, Mortiferus. There's no way that it'll work. You barely have a year left and I have six. That's not even enough time to get started! Pregnancy lasts nine months, notwithstanding the recovery period! And you need to find girls who are willing!"

Mortiferus snorted disdainfully. "You think I care whether I have their consent or not?" he asked. "You already know that I enjoy taking what's not mine, and you have also witnessed me force myself onto others. Why would I need their consent?"

"Well, because…"

"And I already have women in the dungeons. I've been collecting women for the past forty years. Many have become pregnant and have given birth to immortal children. They're also kept within the dungeons."

Jamie looked pained as she ran her hands through her hair. "I don't get what this has to do with me."

"Jamie," Mortiferus began, looking down at the floor, as if embarrassed, "please understand that we need as many women as possible; all the better if they're young and fertile."

"_What_?"

"Jamie, you need to be impregnated as well. We must use every resource available."

"You're joking. Elders, tell me that you're joking!"

"I'm not."

"If you think that I'm going to sleep with every single man that you drag here…"

"I wouldn't dream of letting any other man lay his hand on you. I will not allow you to become a whore. You are mine and mine alone."

The look on Mortiferus face said it all. He wanted her, but not in the way that a brother should. Jamie, for her part, was absolutely horrified and was tempted to throw herself off the top of the castle. Her brother wanted to do _that_ with _her_? It was wrong on so many levels that she didn't even know where to start. She eventually decided to begin with denial. "No. No way. I'm your _sister_! It's wrong!"

"Many things may be right or wrong," Mortiferus said solemnly, "but it is our motives that determine as such."

"You're not going to touch me. I won't let you!"

"You're pathetic. I won't hurt you; I promise."

"No! You stay away from me!"

Jamie was screeching now, her mind panicking and urging her to beat a hasty retreat to some faraway place where he could never touch her. Mortiferus seemed to be enjoying the whole ordeal very much as he stalked around the table to grab a hold of Jamie before she could run off anywhere. "Don't worry," he cooed into her ear as she screamed and struggled to get away, "when the time comes, I promise I'll be gentle." With that he dragged Jamie back to her room where he threw her in and locked to door behind him, making sure that she wouldn't escape.

Once inside, Jamie felt a certain sense of relief coupled with blinding fear. If she was trapped within the room, then she was also safe, to some extent. She was on the other side of the door from where Mortiferus was standing, and the knowledge that there was a barrier in between the two of them (for the time being, at least) calmed her a bit. The relief was short-lived, though, as the magnitude of what her brother, her own _brother_ had asked of her came crashing down.

Curling up in a ball under the bed sheets, Jamie began to sob. She cried for her parents, for her friends, for all the people that Mortiferus had hurt, and for all the people that he was going to hurt. Jamie wept for them all. She wept for her own fate as well; being raped at the hands of her brother. She felt as if she could throw up. The very idea of it was so sick and horrifically wrong! It was _so _wrong. "Why me?" she asked no one in particular as she sobbed into her pillow.

"Why me?"

* * *

Deep beneath the foundations of the castle, there existed a second set of dungeons. Now dark and dank, these vast rooms were originally used as crematoriums. The dead were burned en masse, with twenty-five to forty bodies piled together in each room. Ventilation shafts allowed the smoke to escape and kept the rooms full of clean air when they weren't in use, making it easier on those who were forced to clean up the remains of last night's bonfire.

With the previous owner long dead, there was no more need for the crematoriums, seeing as how Mortiferus tried not to kill his prisoners too often. If and when someone died, his body was simply thrown out into the tundra, where a variety of warm-blooded carnivores would pick at the frozen flesh until nothing was left but bits and pieces of a skeleton. The burning rooms now served as extra dungeons and holding areas, where the excess captives were kept. It was in one of these tomb-like cells that Tanny had made her new home.

Nearly a month pregnant with Mortiferus' bastard child, the poor girl was quite sure that she would die there. Her body would not be able to take much more abuse, let alone childbirth. That was what she was really afraid of; still only thirteen, Tanny had only ever held babies before. She knew nothing about feeding them or changing them. She didn't know how to take care of them, but she did think that they looked very pretty, lying in their cradles or in their mother's arms. She had never even dreamed that she would someday have children, and now she had no choice. A mother at thirteen to a child that she didn't even want, impregnated by the same sadistic man who had stolen her innocence.

Tanny shivered and pulled her knees up to her chest, wondering when Mortiferus would next call on her and hoping that he'd forget. He never did, though. He would always tell her that she was his favorite and that she made him feel like a young man again. He loved to tell her how he looked forward to burying himself in her every night. And each evening he did exactly what he said. No matter how hard she cried, how viciously she fought, or how loudly she pleaded with him to stop, Mortiferus would always have his way with her.

Tanny hated him for destroying her like he was and she hated herself for being too small and weak to fight him off; she always gave up and just lie still on whatever surface she happened to be upon, inviting Mortiferus to finish up. It was those times when he hit her harder, saying that he didn't enjoy being with a lifeless corpse and that she should act more active.

Tanny was miserable, confused, and terrified. What kind of person did these things? What sort of man did Mortiferus call himself? Did he even bother to call himself a man? Was he aware that he was a monster? A dry sob ripped itself from Tanny's throat as she recalled a moment, long ago, when her brothers had told her to be careful around men because they all wanted the same thing. She remembered how they had laughed when she had asked them if they, too, were looking for that "one thing." She missed them. Elders, how she missed them!

Tanny wanted nothing more than to run into the loving arms of her mother an forget about everything that had happened. She wished that it was all just an ugly nightmare that her father could chase away with funny stories. She wanted her brothers to reassure her that none of it had happened and that they'd help her forget. It was wishful thinking, but it would've been a welcome reprieve from her daily life. She was tired of all the pain, and she was tired of being scared all the time. She just wanted to be left alone.

As she thought these thoughts, a part of her that was still tuned into her surroundings gave her a sharp prod. Someone was coming. If she inclined her head towards the heavy stone slab that served as a door and listened intently, she could hear the faint echoes of heavy footfalls. Tanny let out a shriek of dismay as she realized that someone was coming to bring her to Mortiferus, and she quickly scrambled into one of the corners of her cell, as if it was going to do her some good. The echoes continued to grow louder as the person neared, and finally died off as he stopped at the door. A key was clicked into the lock and the door slowly slid open, inviting Tanny to scream again.

"No!" she repeated over and over again, tears running down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and threw her arms over her head, preparing to resist whoever it was that had come to take her. As expected, a pair of hands landed on her shoulders, causing Tanny to kick out. She began her struggle, dreading what she knew was about to take place: the inevitable beatings, followed up by rape and degradation at the hands of that monster that dared to call himself a man.

"Stop it!" bellowed a familiar voice, and Tanny, temporarily shocked, did stop. Looking up at her assailant, Tanny recognized the human guard who had escorted her to Mortiferus' room for the first time. she didn't know his name, but as anger and fear overwhelmed her again, she found that she could've cared less. Without giving the man (whose name was, in fact, Berrodius) time to explain himself, Tanny let out a shrill, ear-piercing scream and began to thrash about.

In her mind, she was being attacked by a man, and that meant pain. Since her arrival, nearly all of her encounters with men had ended in intense pain. Tanny, though humiliated almost unto the point of giving up, didn't want to be hurt anymore, so she fought back. Berrodius, surprised by her sudden and violent reaction, tried to calm Tanny down, but to no avail. She was furious that he had handed her over to Mortiferus, even though he had known what had laid in store for her.; he was a coward to her, yet Tanny still feared him and what he was capable of doing to her.

"I hate you!" she screamed, sounding pathetic and weak, even to her own ears.

"I ain' gonna hurt ye!" Berrodius hollered, grabbing Tanny by the shoulders and holding her at arms' length. "There's someone 'ere who wants t' see ye." Tanny glowered at him, untrusting and unbelieving. "'Lee!" Berrodius called to the doorway. "Git in 'ere 'fore she starts up agin!"

As if it had been waiting for a cue, a figure glided through the door and to Berrodius' side.

_Enough._

The word resonated throughout their minds, but only Tanny reacted. her yelp was one of surprise, nothing more. But when the figure raised its head, Tanny let out a small scream. It was Liala, the young woman with whom Tanny had shared a cell with during those first days, so many eons ago. The only difference between the present Liala and the Liala-of-a-thousand-years-ago was that the present Liala was missing the entire lower half of her face.

The skin was gone, as well as the muscle, leaving only the bone of the jaw exposed. Blood and other fluids leaked from the torn skin that was attached to the bone with nails, screws and other sharp objects. When Tanny saw the wires holding Liala's mouth shut, she quickly hurled herself off to the side and relieved her stomach of its contents.

_I know that this is a shock for you, young one, but we are in need of your assistance. _Tanny finished wiping her mouth and stood up, still looking very ill.

And what do you need me for?" she asked, casting a wary glance at Berrodius, who hung his head, ashamed.

_It deals with revenge upon all who have wronged you. Shall I elucidate? _Tanny cocked her head to the side.

"I'm listening."

* * *

"What is _that_?" scoffed Evil-lyn as she cast a curious glance at the entanglement of wires and metal that Skeletor held cupped in his hands. It was fairly small, and didn't look like much, but Evil-lyn knew well enough that looks could be deceiving. "Where did you find that?"

"Under Tri-Klops' workbench."

"You actually went into his lab without first asking permission? How bold………"

"Spare me your sarcasm, Evil-lyn. This isn't even what I was looking for."

"Hmph. So what are you going to do with It?"

"I'm going to throw It away."

Evil-lyn laughed, knowing that if Tri-Klops were around, he'd pitch a fit if he had found out that Skeletor had been rooting around in his lab. It'd be worse if he had known that Skeletor was going to throw out some unfinished project or something. "I don't have time to look around," Skeletor said as he dumped the thingamabob in a lava pool. "We're already behind schedule as It is."

"I was unaware that we _had_ a schedule." Skeletor snorted indignantly and stalked off to another room, closely tailed by Evil-lyn.

"Everything is ready," he said. "I just need to check a few things. Damn, I wish Tri-Klops was here; he could be doing this _for_ me." Evil-lyn smirked and followed her lord into the room, which was empty, save for a workbench in the corner and a raised, stone platform in the center of the room.

"You managed to procure it without difficulty, I presume?" Evil-lyn asked.

"There were those who were at first opposed to me taking it," Skeletor chuckled, "but I managed to convince them otherwise."

"Of course you did."

"Excellent. Evil-lyn, summon your viewing orb; I want to see what's going on."

She did so with a wave of her staff and a flurry of muttered incantations; a large violet orb materialized in the middle of the room and hovered about three or four feet off of the ground. A picture appeared within the middle, depicting Jamie in an empty room, crying obnoxiously. "When shall we make our move?" the witch asked.

"Give it a few days," Skeletor replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

"When the time comes to intervene, I shall do so with great pleasure."

* * *

**A/N:** Three months. That's about how long it's been since I last updated. Three frickin' months. Not days, not weeks, but **months**. I would make some noble vow about never letting that happen again, but work and school are very demanding. Granted, I was stuck on the first part of the story forever, so I can probably say that it won't be so long next time. Read and Review, please, and many thanks for being so patient with me.


	21. Escape and Failures

I was really reluctant to put this chapter out, but oh well. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you for your patience.

**Arzosah **- Thanks for being understanding; what I like most about having other writers read my stuff is that they understand about writer's block, lol. Glad you liked the chapter, and thanks for reading!

**Eva91** - You have no idea how hard it was for me to write that scene… I was so embarrassed. My little Tri-Klops bust thingy was sitting on top of my desk, watching me, and I was all like, "Whaaaaat? I can't help it!" Traumatizing, that's what it was. Thanks for loving it, though! I'm so excited that I got such a good response from everyone!

**Ebby **- Glad I tripped out at least one person, heh heh heh!

**The Dark Temptress **- Thanks for the compliments; I get inspired whenever I read them, lol. Powerful writing…..I might tack that quote to my wall, lol.

**HitokiriKurisuta **- Don't freak; I'm glad you read it. That alone means a bunch to me.

**Disclaimer:** Same as all the others: I own nothing that Hasbro already owns, blah, blah, and blah. I don't own the rights to MVCreations, the lovely people who published _Icons of Evil: Tri-Klops_, of which I have included some components of; lovely comic book; tells the origins of Trike. Let me know if your interested and I'll scan it for you.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One**

**Escape and Failures**

**

* * *

**

Tri-Klops didn't know what appeal he held that attracted Mortiferus to him, but he wished that there was some way to get rid of it. He felt as if he had been coated in some sugary concoction and Mortiferus was an insect; it was damn annoying, as was Mortiferus himself. Tri-Klops longed for the moment when he would finally be able to silence that mouth forever, and he knew that Trapjaw, who had become less vocal as of late, felt the same. Revenge had such a sweet ring to it.

"From the moment that I first laid eyes on you," Mortiferus droned, breaking Tri-Klops out of his self-induced trance, "I've always known that you would be the one to offer me the greatest amount of entertainment and sport. For that, I thank you." The swordsman sneered, something that he had gotten increasingly used to doing. If it wasn't directed at something that Mortiferus said, then it was at something Mortiferus did. Either way, those sneers, filled to the brim with dark fantasies of blood and death and bitter thoughts, found their way to Mortiferus.

"Would you like a bit of advice, my friend?" Tri-Klops longed to open his mouth to tell Mortiferus where he could stuff his "advice," but thought against it, as calling attention to himself would invite unwarranted beatings. He was getting really tired of those, too. Instead, the wearied swordsman settled for a bored, "Do tell," and simply zoned out as Mortiferus babbled on about how one should just mind their own business instead of meddling in the affairs of immortals and blah, blah, blah.

It had come as no surprise to Tri-Klops that Mortiferus was immortal, for it was clear from the beginning, when Jamie had relayed her strange history. Of course Tri-Klops would've known the raid of the Caligars that Jamie had mentioned; he had read about it in history books. That simple lapse in time gave him the insight he needed to ascertain Jamie's age, which he surmised to be between ninety and one hundred years. He wondered if she knew yet, and decided that of course she would; if Mortiferus was gloating so blatantly to a lowly prisoner, than surely he would have already divulged his grand plan to his sister, who also played a huge part in his schemes.

Speaking of which, Tri-Klops didn't know what disgusted him more: the fact that he had allowed himself to be captured in such a disgraceful manner, or the fact that Mortiferus wanted to use his sister's body to create his immortal army. At the moment, it was the latter that sickened him to his stomach.

_Absolutely disgusting,_ his mind told him, and he agreed. He was no longer annoyed at the part of him who wanted Jamie all to himself, who wanted her as _his_ woman. In fact, Tri-Klops was readily welcoming the idea. After all they had been through, it was impossible _not_ to regard her as his.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Tri-Klops asked, interrupting Mortiferus' lengthy speech.

"Of course I do," snapped the sorcerer, quick as a whip, "it involves torturing you some more; I'm not sure you'll be able to handle it."

"True, I don't believe I'll be able to withstand much more of _your_ torture."

"Are you mocking me?" Mortiferus asked in disbelief. "Perhaps," came the smug reply. Mortiferus hated it when his prisoners got the better of him, and he despised them all the more for putting forth an arrogant attitude.

_I'll show him,_ he thought, _insolent whelp, meddling in my affairs and having the _gall_ to insult me in my own home._ But what to do to break the swordsman? He had outlasted many others who had been quick to surrender to Mortiferus, and there were only so many times that he could threaten the man. Torturing was beginning to lose its appeal.

_But I wonder,_ mused the deranged sorcerer, _what would happen if I were to tamper with something a little more_………_personal?_ By "personal", Mortiferus meant the one item that hadn't yet been touched upon: that damn visor that was so passionately despised. Mortiferus found the bulky invention to be ugly and bothersome; yet, there was a reason to wear it, or the swordsman would not object so vehemently to its being touched. That was what Mortiferus found worth the trouble. Why would a man so fiercely protect something that could easily be made again? Surely the original blueprints were kept safe?

_Oh, the difficulty in making decisions; to remove, or not to remove._ On one hand, it could be amusing and worthwhile. On the other hand, it could be a complete waste of time and effort. _Ah, what the hell? He'll only be alive for a little while longer, and I might as well have my fun now._

"I wasn't going to do this, originally," Mortiferus said out loud, "but recent occurrences have helped me to change my mind. Guards, remove his visor. I want to see what you keep hidden under that hideous chunk of metal." Tri-Klops almost sputtered. Almost. Thankfully, for him, shock had stolen any words that he might've used right off of his tongue. Mortiferus cackled, having gotten a visible response that he had wanted. This had the possibility to be amusing.

Tri-Klops was furious. No one had ever touched his visor before; sure, it had been disabled more times than he could remember, but no one had ever attempted to _remove_ it. That could prove to be problematic, if one didn't know what he was doing. The last thing Tri-Klops needed was a broken visor, especially since there was no way to fix it.

Of course, there was that _other_ problem, the one that he hated to mention, because it made him sound weak and unable to take care of anything on his own. Oh, how he despised that feeling of weakness, that part of him that he held no sway over, the part of him that he could only control through the use of his visor………which was slowly, almost benignly, being removed.

"Go on," Mortiferus motioned, "hurry up and take it off." The guards complied, and Tri-Klops could _feel_ certain wires being removed and other parts shifting in ways that they weren't originally intended. Tri-Klops felt a well of curses rising up in him as his vision slowly faded, compliant with the removal of the visor. How he _hated _this feeling of vulnerability.

The guards moved away from him, visor in hands; Tri-Klops felt them somewhere off to his left. "Hmph," Mortiferus pouted. "It appears that I was once again wrong about you, swordsman; there's nothing special under there after all. How disappointing." All he saw was a normal man with rather pleasant features; there were no scars, no secrets, and no mystery to the swordsman of Snake Mountain. None at all.

_Disgusting_, his mind told him. The only thing that kept Mortiferus from leaving the room to sulk somewhere was the expression on Tri-Klops' face. He looked as if he were very intensely listening to something. His eyes seemed to be off-focus, as if they weren't really seeing what was right in front of them.

_Odd_, Mortiferus thought. _I wonder what his problem is_. Curious, he stepped into Tri-Klops' line of view and waved his hand. Nothing, not even a blink to acknowledge his maneuver. A theory was beginning to bloom in Mortiferus' head and he grinned a bit, stepped forward, and waved his other hand. Still no reaction, other than a slight tilt of the head to accommodate for hearing. Mortiferus had to stifle a giggle as he made a face at his captive and received not even the slightest twitch of response. _Oh yes,_ he thought maniacally, _I _am_ going to have fun with this one._

Mortiferus began to laugh madly at his discovery, much like Skeletor would whenever hit with an epiphany of grand significance. Tri-Klops found that he didn't like it one bit, and he narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "How fascinating!" Mortiferus cried out in glee. "Who would have ever thought that you were _blind_?! It's so _obvious_; I can't believe that I didn't see it before!" The mocking laughter continued and grew more boisterous as Mortiferus' guards joined in.

Tri-Klops no longer sneered at his captor, but hung his head, wishing that the ground would just open up and swallow him into its depths. The truth was, he wasn't fully blind. He could still see shapes and shadows, but not sufficiently enough to function without the visor. He wasn't about to open his mouth and tell Mortiferus that, though. Who knew what would happen if he did?

The visor - his own, personal invention that allowed him to see clearly, among other things. His pride and joy; Trapjaw used to joke around, saying the visor was akin to Tri-Klops' child, and nothing would ever be able to replace it. Now, once again experiencing his inability to see, Tri-Klops found himself agreeing with the cyborg's then derogatory remark. He would have given anything to have his visor returned to him, and in perfect working order. Nothing would have made him happier at the moment then blowing these imbeciles to kingdom come.

As he fantasized about what he would do to those guards once he was free, Tri-Klops became aware that Mortiferus was once again lecturing him. "This is an interesting development," the man said, licking his lips derisively. "I might have to explore the possibilities further, but not today. I have other things that vie for my attention; namely my beloved sister. I'm sure you remember her: Jamie? A good evening to you, Swordsman of Snake Mountain. I hope that the remainder of your stay here is peaceful." Laughing loudly and raucously, Mortiferus exited the chambers with his two guards right on his heels, leaving Tri-Klops alone to sulk.

"Dammit," he said, attracting the attention of Trapjaw, who had remained silent throughout the duration of Mortiferus' visit.

"What's goin' on?" he asked, trying to look out of the small, barred window of his cell door.

"They took off my visor," Tri-Klops mumbled, reluctant to admit it.

"Oh geez," came an exasperated sigh, "you ain't gonna let it git ta ya, are ya? C'mon, Trike! I know yer made of sterner stuff than that!"

"I feel………exposed," Tri-Klops said as he struggled for the right words. "Elders, I _hate_ feeling weak!"

"Ya shouldn't," said Trapjaw. "I mean, ya had trainin' from a master swordsman, right? Ya learned ta function without yer sight, so ya should be fine."

"Yes………" Tri-Klops fell silent as his past rose up before him, unbidden. He remembered that his sight had always been off; in his childhood he was near-sighted, unable to see things too far away. As he grew older his condition worsened, leaving him unable to see anything clearly and distinctly.

It was then that he took up the art of swordsmanship, and learned to perceive with his other senses. He had had an excellent tutor, a friend of his father's, and became well accustomed to his handicap, which he really didn't consider it to be anymore. Tri-Klops was quite able to manage on his own, without the use of his eyes. By the time he was an adult, though, the condition had already stabilized as was being rectified.

If it hadn't been for his inability to keep his nose out of other's business.

If only he hadn't tried to help that man, the sorcerer who was being attacked by a group of bandits.

Pain.

He had been hit in the face with a spell that would have permanently robbed him of his sight, and had it not been for the sorcerer's kind offer to help, Tri-Klops doubted that he would've ever been able to see again, if only a little. Things got better, for a while, before plummeting from okay to awful.

Loyalty.

That's what he had felt when Keldor, the ghost of who Skeletor used to be, attacked the tower where he and the sorcerer, Blaine, had taken up residence in. He had loyally defended his friend until Keldor revealed to him the truth behind the matter: the sorcerer had tricked him and, by having contained the magic that was slowly robbing him of his sight , damaged his eyes beyond repair.

Betrayal.

Angered and hurt by this revelation, Tri-Klops had killed Blaine and agreed to serve Keldor for the rest of his life.

Distrust.

Even now, years later, the memory hurt. It hurt like a bitch. It was because of that one incident that Tri-Klops distanced himself from everyone, not willing to repeat the mistake of trusting someone on that level. Skeletor was the only one who would ever merit that honor (not that Tri-Klops thought him fully sane or anything like that). Perhaps Trapjaw, as well. _Maybe _Jamie, maybe. But now it didn't matter. The one thing that would, without fail, render Tri-Klops sullen and bitter had happened, and Trapjaw knew that the swordsman was hard to console.

"Look," the cyborg said, "at least ya still _have_ yer eyes. Me? I got my arm blown off. Sure, I got a nifty contraption in return, but it ain't the same. Now quit bein' sore and let's git outta here!"

"You don't understand," Tri-Klops said, "now that Mortiferus knows about my weakness, he'll be able to exploit it! If I engage him in combat, he'll know exactly where to strike."

"Aw, quit bein' a coward and jist stab 'im or somethin'! Yer fast on yer feet; jist git to 'im before he gits to you." Tri-Klops grimaced, yet acknowledged Trapjaw's words of wisdom. It was true that he was practically the best swordsman in all of Eternia; he had yet to cross blades with someone who could actually put up a decent fight (He-man and the Masters didn't count, since cheating was often involved in any skirmishes with them).

_You're being weak,_ he said to himself, _stop griping, get out of those chains, get your visor back on, and kill the man! It shouldn't be so difficult._

"Trike, ya with me?" came Trapjaw's insistent voice. "Please tell me yer ready to quit the pity party 'n rejoin reality." Tri-Klops was about to answer in the affirmative when something interrupted him before the words even left his mouth.

"Trapjaw is right," purred a wickedly seductive and unbelievably welcome voice, "you really need to stop this, Tri-Klops dear. It doesn't become you at all."

Evil-lyn smirked as Tri-Klops gazed vacantly in the direction of her voice; she had always thought that his eyes were rather pretty. "What would Skeletor say if he saw you like this?" she asked, her warm breath caressing the side of his face as she leaned down to whisper into his ear.

"Evil-lyn," Tri-Klops said slowly, after a short while, "I can honestly say that I'm glad to hear your voice." There was absolutely no evidence in his tone of him being surprised that the witch had shown up. In fact, it was almost as if he had been anticipating it.

"Hmm, there's a first," the witch said, humming and hawing to herself as she examined the chains, inspecting them as would an experienced jewel collector.

"Care to release us so I can go kill the son of a bitch?"

"Of course, that's what I'm here for, since you two can't seem to do anything right."

"Spare me the cynicism."

"Ooh, aren't we testy?"

With a tap of Evil-lyn's staff, the chains that held Tri-Klops to the wall vanished and the door to Trapjaw's cell creaked on rusty hinges as it swung open. Trapjaw, without missing a beat, stalked over to the worktable that the guards had oh-so-carelessly left Tri-Klops' visor on and handed it to his comrade. "Put the damn thing back t'gether 'n fix my arm so we can kick this guy's ass," he growled threateningly.

Tri-Klops nodded grimly, angrily, as his dexterous fingers skillfully ran over his visor, snapping things back into place and rewiring the configurations. It was evident that he had done this many times before. "So, what made ya decide t' come see 'bout us, Evil-lyn?" Trapjaw asked, making small-talk as his stoically silent friend repaired his device.

"Ask Skeletor," Evil-lyn replied with a shrug. "He decided it was time to intervene -"

"Ya mean 'interfere'."

"- and we left Snake Mountain at once."

Trapjaw snorted as Tri-Klops began to work on his arm, perfect vision having been restored. "It's 'bout time, I say," he said, watching with critical eyes as Tri-Klops replaced a few gears into their original positions. "Ya'll have always had bad timin'." A few minutes and several bolts later they were ready to go, but Evil-lyn stayed them, wanting to wait for Skeletor.

"He'll be along shortly," she said.

"Where is he?" Tri-Klops asked, finally speaking up. His gruff voice matched his present mood perfectly: angry, unsociable, and ready to kill.

"Who knows?" Evil-lyn remarked casually. "He is his own person and does what he wishes." That statement was pretty much a reputable point, especially since everyone knew that Skeletor did _only_ what he wanted to do, and to hell with anyone who tried to stand in his way. The newly reunited trio stood around silently for several minutes, waiting for their master to appear.

"What is he doin'?" Trapjaw asked later on, for about the hundredth time. Before Evil-lyn could reply with a scathing remark, their Overlord strode through the entrance, startling all three.

"Oh goody," Skeletor said sarcastically, "you're ready to obey. I can hardly wait to see how you botch things up _this_ time!"

* * *

Three dark shadows filtered through the hallway, silent spectators to the task that their respective owners were intent on performing. Unseen and unheeded by those around them, the shadows were the perfect accomplices for such a deed. After all, a shadow cannot speak and therefore cannot reveal secrets; likewise, a shadow cannot be captured and tortured for information.

However, a shadow is by no means immortal. In fact, it's lifespan is merely as long as that of its host. Still, it is a useful thing to be impervious to everything; Tanny thought so. _I wish I were a shadow_, she said to herself as she clung to Liala's arm.

Fifteen feet behind Berrodius (a mildly acceptable distance, in Tanny's opinion), the two girls were trying to guess exactly where they were in the labyrinth-like structure of the castle. Though Liala had lived there for several years, there were still many areas that she had never been introduced to, and therefore was unaware of their existence. Tanny, who had only ever seen the inside of her cell and that of Mortiferus' room was completely lost. She had no clue where they currently were, and did not exhibit any desire to know. It was times like these when she preferred to remain ignorant.

As for Berrodius, he could've pinpointed their exact location on a map, just from examining his surroundings. Out of the three of them, he had lived within Mortiferus' service the longest and was quite familiar with the many passageways of the castle. "This is stupid," he muttered under his breath as he absently touched his hand to the wall.

_Perhaps you have a better idea,_ Liala suggested, as the much larger man turned to face her. _You agreed to accompany us,_ she continued demurely, _and what's more, you _swore _to help us; to back out now exhibits cowardice._

"I ain' a coward!" Berrodius objected vehemently. "I jist don' think it's a good idea." And it _wasn't_ a good idea. In fact, sneaking into Mortiferus' room to steal some dumb trinket guaranteed a slow, painful death. "Forgive me if my caution comes 'cross as cowardice," Berrodius said sharply, turning back around to finish leading the way.

Tall and well-built, very little intimidated Berrodius, but even he quaked with fear whenever Mortiferus approached. He would hate to be on the receiving end of the madman's wrath. "C'mon," Berrodius said stiffly, "let's keep movin'."

The remainder of their journey was spent in an awkward silence that made Tanny squirm in discomfort. She wished that some would say something, just to break the monotonous attitude. Maybe it would've helped to ease her apprehension. Perhaps it would've prepared her somewhat; after all, Tanny was going to the very room where all of her worst nightmares had taken place.

As the small posse neared the door to Mortiferus' chambers, Tanny began to hyperventilate and tried to turn back. Much to her dismay, however, Liala grabbed a hold of her arm and forced her onward. "No, no no!" Tanny whimpered, tears already falling down her face, and terror present in her eyes. "I-I changed my mind! I wanna……wanna go back to my cell!"

_It's too late to turn back now,_ Liala said, tugging her charge along. _Berrodius, help me!_

"Cain't. She screams ev'rytime I come near."

_Tanny, stop it!_

"Let me go! I'll scream!"

_And then we'll be caught and in even _more_ trouble!_

"'Specially if Mortif'rus catches ya; then yer gonna wish ya'd never been born!"

"Too late, I already do!"

_Shhhhhh! We'll be caught!_

"Hey, we're 'ere now."

Everyone immediately ceased their individual actions and stared at the familiar, yet ominous, red door. "No," maoned Tanny, clinging tightly to Liala and shaking her head sadly.

_Come on._

Tanny didn't know how the door was opened, or who opened it. None of that mattered; not anymore, as she was forcibly led into the darkness of her own personal hell. The place was still very much the same, having not changed too significantly from when she was first taken. The bookshelves and desks were still in place, as was the monstrous bed; the moment she laid eyes on it, Tanny began cry profusely.

Berrodius couldn't take his eyes off of her, the young girl who had experienced too much pain in too short a time. The suffering in her voice was unbearable, as was the agony in her wide, blue eyes. Berrodius could scarcely recall the appearance of Tanny when she had first arrived; her luscious, curly blonde hair had since been shorn short, in uneven clumps and patches. Her oval-shaped face, which had once-upon-a-time exhibited an adorably irresistible set of dimples, was bruised and scratched, branded and scarred.

Eyes, once so lively and full of childish curiosity, now held indescribable fear and loathing, the kind that no child Tanny's age should ever be exposed to. Her arms and legs were covered in sores and scratches; Berrodius could only imagine the condition that the rest of her body was in, even though the torn frock that Tanny wore didn't leave too much to the imagination.

The guard felt truly sorry for the girl, and for himself. Surely he'd be damned to the lowest bowels of hell for the part that he played in her unfortunate fate? It seemed only fitting that an accomplice to rape would share the same fate as the rapist himself, and there was no doubt in Berrodius' mind that Mortiferus was going to go right where he belonged: straight to hell.

His mind refocused itself as Tanny whimpered sharply and clung to his arm. She was past the point of caring about Berrodius' involvement in her rape; she was past the point of caring about his obvious male figure and his capability of raping her; she was far past caring about much, aside from the fact that she was going to die. She knew it. Deep within her tortured soul she knew that she was going to die in this room. She had already been killed spiritually, why not physically?

"Please………," she whined pathetically, small hands clutching and pulling at his jerkin. She was being driven mad by her memories, as gruesome and numerous as they were. "Liala," Berrodius half-whispered, concerned for the well-being of the girl-child that they had brought with them, "ain't there somethin' we can do fer 'er? Take a look at 'er; she ain't gonna last much longer."

Liala studied Tanny's shivering form with sympathy. It hadn't been that long ago when _she_ had been in the same type of situation. Older, yes, and more aware of what was happening, but the terror was the same. The fear of the pain, the horror from the violation itself, and the agony of the births……… there had been too many in the short four years that Liala had lived at the castle. Too many children she had given life to, yet had never seen or touched. Liala preferred not to think about it.

_We keep moving,_ she said, her words final. Tanny gave a wretched sob from deep in her throat and practically collapsed in Berrodius' arms, too tired to give a damn anymore, but still too terrified to continue on; Berrodius simply lifted her in his arms and cradled her to his chest.

"Ya better find it quick like," he murmured, praying to the Elders that they weren't caught.

_I'm looking,_ came the annoyed reply.

Liala flitted through the shelves of the bookcase, and filtered through the drawers of the desks, but found nothing. She looked under the bed as well, but was also met with disappointment. "Git in," Berrodius mumbled to himself, "find a dumb amulet, destroy it, 'n git out. Is that so hard t' do?"

_Shut up, fool._

"Then hurry up!"

_I'm working as diligently as possible; just keep watch while I search._

"Ya'd better make fast wit' the serchin' bit, 'cause I know I jist heard somethin'."

_Found it._

Liala turned around and held up a small green stone attached to a length of silver chain. The stone itself was a bright green and about two inches long; it shined gaily in the darkness of the room, but fooled no one. Liala and Berrodius were aware that it contained some sort of evil power, though they were not privy to the details of said evil power. They just knew that it had to be destroyed. Tanny knew the same as they, but exhibited no signs of acknowledgement that their task was halfway completed.

Liala might have smiled if she had had lips. This was turning out to be far easier than she or Berrodius had anticipated. _Far _too_ easy,_ a little voice inside her head said, but she chose to ignore it. Doubts were something to worry about later, after everything had settled. _Come on,_ she spoke, safely tucking the amulet into a hidden pocket within her cloak, _let's finish this and get out._ Berrodius nodded and shifted Tanny into a more comfortable position in his arms, ready to follow. But before they got the chance………

"Well, well, well," drawled an insipid voice from the doorway, "what have we here?"

* * *

**A/N:** I'm a liar, I know. A terrible, filthy, hedonistic liar. I blame laziness, a lack of creativity, AP classes, and work. The usual suspects. I'm not sure that I like this chapter too much; I feel as if it's moving way too fast. I'm definitely going to have a sit-down and rewrite this sucker. Man, three months of waiting and all I give to you poor things is this unsightly tidbit of rambling. Mea culpa, my loves, mea culpa. I also feel retarded for not mentioning Trike's blindness earlier. Maybe it was a bad idea to spring upon everyone so suddenly. He _is_ practically blind, though. Shoot, this might mean I'll have to rewrite earlier chapters. Bah, please let me know what you think? I'm at a loss here.


	22. Confrontation

Guys, I kid thee not, this is my absolute favorite chapter of all time. Sorry it took so long and blah blah blah, but this is a great chapter; I'm too in love with it. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Eva91 - **Thanks so much for the review and the advice! I'm so excited that you're excited! I have big plans in store for the gang, and I do hope you'll approve.

**The Dark Temptress - **Thanks for the lovely compliments! And yes, Skeletor likes it big and flashy; he probably spends more time reciting entry speeches than he does planning to take over Grayskull. I wouldn't be surprised. And though I can't say too much about the future, I will mention that not everyone is what they seem to be, and no one is nothing. Aren't I enigmatic?

**Ebby - **Thanks so much for your support; I really appreciate it! Yeah, last chapter was what I like to call a transition chapter, which means it's trying to move into the last stages of its life. This chapter is also kind of slow, but I promise that the next one will be choc full of action!

**HardcoreHorrorChick - **Thanks for your time! I'm glad you like the style; sorry about Buzz-Off, though. I'm sure he'll be fine.

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own anything that is He-man oriented. Jamie/Reaper, Ailil/Mortiferus, Berrodius, Tanny, and Liala are my own creations. Not that anyone is going to steal them or anything, because they just aren't that cool.

**Warning: **This chapter contains language most foul, and I do hope you excuse it. I thought it a necessary vehicle to convey the emotional distress of one or more of the characters.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

**Confrontation**

* * *

Jamie thought that she might've been getting used to the cold; her fingers were actually starting to feel less like icicles and more like fingers. She didn't particularly relish the idea, though. On the contrary, it removed one article to the still long list of arguments of why she shouldn't stay with her brother. As if she _needed_ reasons in the first place.

Despite the dastardly weather and the acute threat of hypothermia followed by perpetual death, Jamie was beginning to seriously contemplate the idea of fleeing for her life. She wouldn't mind jumping out of a window, no matter how far the drop; if anything, she could freeze any broken bones back into place and quickly hobble off. She was sure that it could be done.

The only thing holding her back was the thought of poor Trapjaw and Tri-Klops, both of whom she hadn't seen since they had arrived at the castle, a little less than three weeks ago. She knew that they were still alive, though; if Mortiferus had killed them he would've told her so, in order to further break her spirit. Her brother was a cruel bastard and would do anything to make her his.

That scared Jamie. It scared her more than she cared to admit, and she didn't need anyone to tell her that she was a coward because at heart that's what she was. Courageous when the moment called for an act of bravery, but spineless when her life was on the line.

But wasn't that the basic primal instinct that lived within, man, woman, and child alike? It was everyone's nature to instinctively run away in the face of danger, so why was it looked down upon? What was the difference between a woman fleeing an abusive husband and a warrior hiding from a deadly foe? What was the difference, really?

Jamie felt like running; she didn't want to have to face Mortiferus again, not after what had happened in the dining hall. As if she wanted to _think_ about that incident. Talk about running and screaming. About the only thing that brought her comfort (as insignificant as it seemed) was the knowledge that Mortiferus was as sexually devious with everyone he came into contact with, and not just her. It may have been a cruel thought, but it did make Jamie feel a tiny bit better. Not much, but it eased something inside of her.

_I'm horrible,_ Jamie thought, playing with her hands. _Mortiferus and I aren't that different after all._

**BAM! **

Jamie almost jumped off the bed that she had been sitting on before realizing that she wasn't under attack; the short lived relief quickly evolved into dread as the door opened and Mortiferus strode into the room, swaggering as if he held the fate of her world in his hands, which he did. Jamie visibly shuddered.

"Ah, dear sister," Mortiferus crooned, slithering forward like on of those disgusting Snakemen, "I'm elated to see that you're awake! It's been quite a while since we last spoke, about three days, yes?" Jamie wasn't listening, but rather concentrated on the two top heavy guards that flanked her brother on either side. Both looked to be extremely dangerous and highly tense, as if on the verge of action; Jamie didn't like them at all.

"What do you want now, pervert?" she asked slowly, still looking anywhere _but_ Mortiferus' direction.

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to your brother?"

"It is when it's the truth."

Mortiferus had nothing to say to that, so he just pursed his lips into that thin, foreboding line that he tended to favor when displeased and walked across the room to hide his displeasure. "I came to inform you that tonight is the night that we commence our rather………_unique _partnership," he bit out, forcing his voice to come across as light and comradely. He really wanted to hit Jamie, but then she wouldn't talk to him and he really wanted to hear her voice.

"Nice choice of words," Jamie spat, "but I'm not 'commencing' anything. Forget it." Mortiferus sighed at his sister's childlike resistance; as if she could actually stop him from taking what he wanted.

"Jamie," he continued, "we discussed this before and -"

"'Discuss'?!" Jamie interrupted, screeching. "_We_ 'discussed' nothing! _You_ dictated to me! _I_ had no say in it!"

"Oh, don't be that way…"

Jamie was beginning to get angry; deep within, something else was waking up and taking notice. It had sensed Jamie's growing agitation and was poised to respond, preparing to jump through the small window presented during that point when Jamie became so blinded by fury that she completely lost her rationale.

Unfortunately, that moment never came as the girl gathered herself together. There would be no killing for the moment, but soon, the thing felt, blood would be shed. The castle seemed to emanate a sense of foreboding that was almost prophetic. _Soon,_ it decided, _soon_…

"Mortiferus," Jamie continued to argue, completely unaware of the miniature struggle that had just taken place inside of her, "if you want me, you'll have to kill me." Mortiferus' face darkened, his eyes narrowed, and he bared his teeth. Apparently, that hadn't been what he had wanted to hear.

"Listen here, you bitch," he seethed, pointing a finger right in Jamie's face, "you would be ­_dead_ if not for me! I saved your sorry ass when you didn't deserve it, I took you in, cared for you, fed you, _tried_ to be civil, but all you do is treat me like _shit_. Is that how you see me? As a piece of shit? Is that all I am to you?" Jamie frowned and crossed her arms, but Mortiferus didn't miss the tears that filled her eyes.

"You were my brother once," she replied, her voice cracking a little, "and I have never regarded you anything less than a god. You were my big brother, for Elders' sake, but that was long time ago, and you've changed so much; you're not the man that I once knew." Jamie sniffed, but her tears did not fall.

Mortiferus sneered at her, detesting the display of personal weakness; he hated how she mourned for a man that was long dead, a man that no longer existed. "The fact remains," he said, "that we are still related by blood, if nothing else. I am still your older brother, regardless of how I've changed. You _will_ treat me as such; you _will_ respect me." Jamie shook her head and appeared to shrink in stature, as if trying to withdraw into herself.

"I can't respect you," she quivered, "not now, not ever."

"What have I done to de-"

"Mortiferus, you _beat_ me!" Jamie was really crying now and her shoulders shook with the effort of reigning in her grief. "You beat me, hid my comrades from me, and you've done other things that I don't care to mention!"

Mortiferus nodded; it was all true, but couldn't she see that it was all for her own good? Everything that he had done was for Jamie's betterment and even though it had hurt, he was sure that she would thank him for it later. "Jamie," he said, a pleading note in his voice, "please try to understand that I did those things because I love you! I was just trying to protect you!"

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was bad enough that his heartbreaking tone was a farce, but the words that were coming out of his mouth were even more of an insult. "Protect me from what, exactly?" she asked, her fury starting to grow again; the thing inside stirred, thrashing restlessly. It wanted out. "Or should I ask, from _whom_?" she continued, practically spitting.

Mortiferus all but snarled at her. He hadn't really expected her to ask such insightful questions; she had always been clueless, more apt to take his word as face value than dig for the deeper meaning behind it. "The swordsman has been corrupting you, turning you against me," he growled, not even bothering to lie.

"Get over yourself," Jamie replied, "I was against you ever since you murdered our parents. _Tri-Klops_ had nothing to do with it."

"You love him."

"I don't and you're just jealous."

Actually, the accusation rang half-true: Jamie was attracted to Tri-Klops and desired him all the same, but she didn't think she actually _loved_ him. Or maybe she did and couldn't tell the difference. "Right," Mortiferus shot back, "as if I haven't been watching the three of you since your departure from Snake Mountain. I've seen the way you look at him. You just want to get him on his back so you can _fuck_ him. You can't lie to me, girl. Your face says it all."

"SHUT UP!" Jamie screamed, picking up a nearby book and throwing it hard at Mortiferus; it clipped him on the shoulder and within five seconds he had her pinned to the floor.

"_You fucking little whore_!" he raged at her, his sharp nails painfully digging into Jamie's shoulders. "I have _had_ it with you and your damn attitude! I _refuse _to be treated like this!" He backhanded her three times across the face, causing her head to snap back and forth with each blow. He thought that he might've broken her neck when she didn't move, but after a moment he realized that she was crying again.

"Quit your sniveling and get up," Mortiferus said in disgust, standing up. Jamie didn't move, but whimpered something in a garbled tone that Mortiferus was unable to decipher. He demanded that she repeat herself in a louder and clearer tone.

_"I hate you._"

"Come again?"

Jamie looked her brother dead in the eye. "I. Hate. You," she enunciated, slowly and deliberately in the most venomous tone possible. "I hate _everything_ about you; your eyes, your smile, your entire _face_. I hate the words that come out of your lying mouth and I hate the way you walk with your _stupid_ swagger. I hate your dumb castle and I hate everything else you own. I hate you _so _much; just go DIE somewhere!"

Mortiferus just stared at her, hands at his sides curling into tights fists. In his own defense, he did wait until Jamie stood up before punching her. This time, though, she didn't try to fight back or even open up her smart mouth to say something. She reeled back, blood spilling from a split eyebrow, staining her skin and hair. He punched her again, in the stomach, and she dropped to her hands and knees, gasping and wheezing for air.

The thing inside let out a wrathful cry but was _still_ unable to take over. Either the window was far too small or Jamie's control was too strong. But as Mortiferus kicked her in the face, splitting her head open and rendering her unconscious, it vowed revenge even as its world blacked out with its host's.

As for Mortiferus, he managed to stop himself from kicking her again when she cried out and fell limp on the floor. He didn't want to harm Jamie anymore than necessary, but his rage was not spent; he was still seething inside and needed to exert his negative energy on something. Not her, though.

"Take her down to the great hall," Mortiferus commanded his guards, who had been silently standing by the door the entire time.

The two men bowed stiffly, as if unused to the movement, and quickly stuffed Jamie between them. They took great pains to make sure that she wasn't jostled, that she was comfortable, and that her blood didn't stain their clean jerkins. Mortiferus watched them scuttle away like cockroaches fleeing from a bright light.

He didn't know how long afterwards he stood there in that room; hours, perhaps. He couldn't remember everything that went through his head, or even what had caused him to pause in the first place. What he did remember was an acute sense of trepidation settling over him. This cloud of doom gave him some cause for worry in taking the next step of his diabolical plans, but he brushed the thoughts aside, reasoning that it was just nerves.

_Haven't had _that _problem for a long time,_ he chuckled to himself. Jamie was the only one who could still do that to him. Speaking of which, he still had a lot of pent up anger and frustrations to work out. Quickly, he summoned another guard who had been patrolling a nearby corridor.

"Find me Jädian."

* * *

The item that Skeletor held in his palm was a perfectly round orb, obsidian in color and about the size of an infant's fist. It didn't look too terribly impressive, but Skeletor assured his team that it was, in fact, _very_ impressive. In fact, it worthy of such admiration that it had taken Skeletor a full two days to collect, as he battled his way through a myriad of powerful obstacles and a battering ram of ancient ruins, all of which were opposed to his taking the orb.

Though it had been quite obvious that _someone_ hadn't wanted it to be stolen, Skeletor had taken it nonetheless, risking his very life in the process. "This," he announced smugly, "is the Black Stone."

"Uh, yeah, we can _see_ that," Trapjaw spoke up, "but what is it?" The cyborg was irritated and ready for action, but his arm was still being repaired; apparently, the problem had been more than just a few detached gears.

"Idiot," Evil-lyn snapped, rolling her eyes at Trapjaw's ignorance. "It's _called_ the Black Stone."

"What does it do?" interjected Tri-Klops, putting down a small tool to accept the stone from Skeletor. "It doesn't look too remarkable." And Tri-Klops, for one, really wasn't awed. He didn't have the time to be.

"Perhaps," said his master, "but that's the whole point; the less impressive it is, the less likely it'd get stolen. It didn't stop _me_, of course, but it's the effort that counts. As for what it does, well, that requires a bit more of an explanation."

"Are ya gonna tell us?" Trapjaw slowly asked, half of his attention on what his leader was saying and the other half closely scrutinizing everything that Tri-Klops was doing; it was _his _arm that the inventor was working on, and even though Trapjaw trusted the man with his life, he took no chances when it came to crucial components of his body.

Skeletor took the Black Stone back from Tri-Klops and hid it somewhere within the folds of his cape. "It's a nullifier," he said. "It has the power to rob someone of their magic for an allotted amount of time. Since this Mortiferus seems to be well versed in the dark arts, I thought the Black Stone a useful tool in the orchestration of his defeat."

Tri-Klops frowned as he tightened a dead bolt. "Wouldn't you and Evil-lyn be in danger as well?" he asked, concerned that something would go wrong.

"No," Evil-lyn put forth, "the wielder of the stone chooses whose powers to negate, and only spell casters can properly utilize the stone in the first place."

Trapjaw nodded thoughtfully. It made sense now. It also made sense that Skeletor had claimed sole monopoly of the stone; he was the most powerful magic user among them, even more so than Evil-lyn. Skeletor had several years more experience under his belt than she, but that didn't mean that she wasn't powerful in her own right.

In fact, there were times that Trapjaw felt that Evil-lyn could _do_ more with her magic. For instance, whereas Skeletor used his magic for brute strength (breaking and blowing things up), Evil-lyn used many different spells to accomplish an assortment of objectives (espionage, healing wounds, fixing things, etc.). This wasn't to say that Skeletor didn't know _how_ to use his magic for anything other than extreme force, but it was his specialty, as subtlety was Evil-lyn's.

"So now wha-?"

"Wait," murmured Tri-Klops, holding up a hand to stem the flow of conversation. He took Trapjaw's arm by its mid-joint and began to slowly push it upwards, forcing the precariously placed gear to fully pop back into place. Trapjaw let out a slow hiss at the strain that this put on his shoulder but withstood the pain for the sake of a working arm.

"Thanks," the cyborg snapped as he moved his metal claw into place.

"Time to go," Skeletor said, pointing his Havoc Staff in the direction that they should take.

"Do we have a plan?" Tri-Klops asked as he wiped his hands on a rag that had been left on the table.

"Of course we do, imbecile," Skeletor snapped. "We find this Mortiferus, annihilate him, acquire his secret of immortality, lay waste to the castle, and go home." As an afterthought he added, "I suppose we can pick up that girl on our way out."

Tri-Klops pursed his lips and didn't say anything, but he was a bit more concerned with finding Jamie than anything else. However, if he were to make his thoughts known, he knew that the others would never let him live it down and he would most likely die from their relentless teasing. "Fine," he chose to say instead.

The small posse immediately took a flight of stairs that led up, trying to move quickly and quietly. It was the same spiral set that Mortiferus shared a love/hate relationship for, and a couple of them (Evil-lyn specifically) found themselves slightly dizzy after a hundred feet or so.

"Do we know where Morti-what's-it is?" Trapjaw eventually asked, prodding Tri-Klops in the back.

"Evil-lyn," Tri-Klops whispered in turn, for he really had no idea where they were headed, "have you found him yet?"

"Of course I have, nitwit," she scoffed, barely turning around to acknowledge him. "Try to have a little faith, boys; he's in the great hall, about two floors above us."

"Less chit-chat, more walking!" Skeletor barked, volume turned down low. The stairs having been cleared, the next obstacle was a long, empty corridor. This too was treated with the utmost caution; the less opposition they encountered on the way up, the better. No sooner did this thought cross the minds of everyone than they rounded a corner and ran right into four guards preparing to go on sentry duty.

Without missing a beat, Skeletor seized the nearest one by the face and smashed the unfortunate man's head into the wall; he slumped to the ground, his skull crushed and blood leaking out of his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth.

Evil-lyn whispered a few words of magic in the ancient tongue and her eyes and fist began to glow dangerously. Two of the three remaining guards rushed her, confident that she'd be no match for their combined muscle mass. They quickly discovered the folly of their assumption when the witch unleashed a small, luminescent ball of deadly magic. It split in two, hitting each of the men in his stomach and immediately rupturing his internal organs. Their deaths were slow and painful.

Tri-Klops and Trapjaw tag teamed the last man with vicious efficiency. When Trapjaw swiped at the guard's midsection with his claw, Tri-Klops simultaneously leaped over his friend and removed their adversary's head in one clean strike. Disemboweled and decapitated, the corpse was flung to the side with indifference; it might've been overkill, but it had certainly worked.

"Eager much?" Evil-lyn asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow at the two.

"Speak for yourself," Tri-Klops smiled grimly, beckoning with his sword to the two guards that Evil-lyn had felled. Now thoroughly and completely dead, the men's stomachs looked bloated and violently bruised; blood steadily flowed from their mouths, a sign of internal bleeding. Evil-lyn just shrugged modestly, a pleased smile on her lips.

"Hurry!" Skeletor barked, his skeletal visage fixed in that perpetually maddening grin. His warriors were hard pressed to keep up with him as he dashed up yet another set of stairs. Tri-Klops began praying to gods that he had long ago stopped believing in that Jamie was alive and unhurt. If she wasn't, well, then he would see how many different knots he could tie using Mortiferus' intestines.

It took a full five minutes for the quartet to climb the flight, and by the time they reached the second floor it was obvious that they had arrived at their destination. All four of them _felt_ Mortiferus before they saw him.

It was an inexplicable phenomena: the air was cold, freezing cold and dry; a sense of dread hung in the air, the bad feeling a person gets before finding out about the death of a loved one; there was an ancient, musty smell in the air, something that Tri-Klops would have identified with books and manuscripts, not deranged sorcerers. A collective shiver traveled through the group, whether in response to fear or the cold, no one knew.

"What is that?" Trapjaw asked, presumably about the strange shift in atmosphere.

"A magical aura," Evil-lyn whispered back. "All magic users have one, but very few are ever this strong. Normally, only other spell casters would be able to sense an aura, but this………it's almost as if he knows we're here and is trying to intimidate us. Either that or he just doesn't care if anyone else is around."

It was hard for Evil-lyn to explain all this and not sound impressed, but she honestly had never come across someone who radiated such a powerful aura. It was stronger than her own, she was quite sure of that, but she was unable to gauge it against Skeletor's; he kept his own well hidden and out of her range of perception.

"So what do we do now?" Tri-Klops asked, perturbed by this strange and unwelcome development. He didn't know whether to treat it seriously or brush it off as something for the magic users to deal with, but he knew that every minute wasted debating was another minute that Jamie might be in harm's way. He just wanted to know if it was safe for them to continue onwards.

Apparently Skeletor thought so, for he waved his hand in that condescending, "Yes, yes, get moving," type of way and ushered his lackeys to the massive doors that led to the great hall.

"Just follow my lead," he sniffed, as if he hadn't a care in the world. The other three readied themselves, and with a slight tilt of the Havoc Staff the doors swung open and they invited themselves in. Of course, this type of commotion garnered attention almost instantaneously, and Mortiferus quickly whirled around to face the intruders.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his manner regal and his tone disdainful. He hadn't been expecting company and he had been greatly surprised, but he wasn't going to show it. Silently cursing his lack of insight, Mortiferus allowed his gaze to freely roam over each trespasser, lingering for a while on the shapely form of Evil-lyn; she quickly noticed his lecherous smirk and sneered at his weak mindedness.

"I repeat," the lord of the castle intoned, "who are you?" Skeletor stepped forward, his cape sweeping about him like some sort of trademark banner.

"I am Skeletor," he announced in that same practiced voice that he used with He-man. "I am the Lord of Snake Mountain, and I have come here to collect something of value."

Mortiferus blinked stupidly. "You're joking, right?" he asked in disbelief.

"Unfortunately for you, no," Skeletor said, the scorn in his tone very pronounced. First impressions had been made and Skeletor wasn't too thrilled; Mortiferus looked about as formidable as a newborn kitten, not much of a threat at all, and his lax attitude hinted at his immaturity.

_This is what I sent out two of my best warriors for?_ he thought disgustedly. _This scrawny little nobody? He's a waste of my time! At least I won't have to worry about exerting too much energy._ Skeletor just wished that he could visually convey his displeasure; it was during times like these that he missed having facial expressions.

Evil-lyn, on the other hand, was secretly pleased with Mortiferus' handsome physique. His long, black hair was tied in a loose bundle at the base of his skull and his blue eyes shone intelligently. He had a clear complexion and pleasant features. Oh yes, he was handsome, but little else.

Evil-lyn had seen his kind before, male whores whose only purpose was to pleasure their masters. The look in their eyes was always the same: hungry and lustful, craving sex like it was food and drink. She had recognized that same look the moment his eyes had landed upon her. _Not interested,_ she mocked Mortiferus as he leered in her direction.

Shifting her attention from Mortiferus to Skeletor, Evil-lyn wasn't surprised to see that her master was already bored. His relaxed stance spoke volumes as he leaned heavily upon his Havoc Staff; he wasn't worried at all. Tri-Klops, however, looked like he might explode upon being touched.

He wasn't tense or highly strung, but he was ready to fight. He was loosened up, in control, completely immersed in his element……..though Evil-lyn thought that if he were to grip the hilt of his sword any tighter it would snap in half. She knew that Tri-Klops was concerned about Jamie and all, but did he really have to be so melodramatic about the whole situation? It wasn't as if they didn't have everything under control.

"Let's hurry up and get this over with," she whispered to Skeletor.

"I agree," he said. Mortiferus had the decency to look suspicious.

"Really," he said, as if getting down to serious business, "what are you doing here? How did you even get in?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Skeletor responded. "Unfortunately, we're on a rather tight schedule, so if you'll be kind enough to tell us where the girl is and perhaps give us the secret to immortality, we'll just be on our way."

To everyone's surprise, Mortiferus backed away with a flourish and a bow, giggling to himself. "Of course," he said, "by all means, take the girl!"

With a snap of his fingers Jamie appeared, bound, trussed, and looking very pathetic indeed. There were bruises all over her face and dried blood was caked throughout her hair. Her clothes were rumpled and dirty, having not been washed for quite a while, and her eyes were red from crying. However, at the sight of her comrades, Jamie broke out into the most relieved smile that anyone had ever seen.

"Tri-Klops!" she burst out. "You're alive!"

"I'm fine too, thanks fer askin', kid," Trapjaw called out, ignoring the death glares that Mortiferus was shooting about the room. He, like Tri-Klops, was grateful to find that Jamie was alive and relatively unharmed, if a bit bloody around the edges.

"Quit _looking _at her!" Mortiferus hissed at Trapjaw, enraged that Jamie's focus had once again been disrupted by the very people that he hated.

"Why?" asked the ever perceptive Evil-lyn. "Are you jealous of his rugged good looks?"

"Shut up, bitch!"

"I wouldn't call her that again, if I were you," Skeletor suggested, that red spark flaring up in his eye sockets; there were some things, like a woman's honor, that men just had to champion.

"Or you'll what?" Mortiferus sneered, oblivious to what he was getting himself into.

"Or I'll rip out your spleen and beat you with it," Skeletor replied seriously. Jamie's eyes widened at the sincerity of the threat and she quickly glanced at Tri-Klops, who gave an affirmative nod; Skeletor wasn't joking. Mortiferus obviously thought so, though, for he just threw his head back and laughed hysterically.

_Idiot_, Tri-Klops thought to himself as he twirled his sword. _He really doesn't know who he's messing with._

"Give me the secret to your immortality and I'll consider making your death a slightly less painful one," Skeletor bargained.

"Sorry," Mortiferus said, bowing again, "I'm not interested in selling."

"Then I suppose I'll just have to take it from you."

"I'll be most interested to see how you intend to accomplish _that_."

"Watch then, and be amazed."

Jamie wanted to laugh at the exchange of insults and thinly veiled threats; they sounded too much like young boys fighting for the attention of a pretty lady. It would've been very funny if lives hadn't been at stake. Aside from feeling like she had been thrown down the side of a mountain, and aside from the recent emotional trauma, Jamie was beginning to feel pretty fine.

Actually, now that she was able to see that Trapjaw and Tri-Klops were alright, she felt more than fine. It was such a huge relief to see that they were both backed up by Skeletor and Evil-lyn; hopefully this meant that Mortiferus wouldn't pose too much of a threat, now that they were there.

"You're in trouble!" she sang out, feeling a bit more brave. Mortiferus glared at her, the look on his face telling her to shut the hell up or else. Jamie tried to smirk back, but faltered; Mortiferus really looked ready to murder someone.

_Elders, I hope no one dies,_ she worried. _But I suppose it'll be alright. I mean, really, Skeletor's here! What's the worst that could happen?_

But then, she wasn't even sure if she really wanted to know.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, well, well, I bet ya'll thought I was dead! But I'm not, yet. My birthday is on Sunday, I'll be old, and then I can go die. Hope you enjoyed! As always, please review, let me know what's up and all that jazz.


	23. End Game Pt 1

I both love and hate this chapter. I love it because it actually sounds decent and I hate it because it rebelled against me for FOUR months. Almost five. I beg forgiveness from everyone. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**The Dark Temptress - **Thanks so much for the support! Yeah, Skeletor has his own way of doing things. I figured that he would be far more interested in the whole immortality deal than he would anything else. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**ODST-127 - **Yes! That was what I was going for! Well, that and I have trouble writing anything that even resembles a decent fight. I blame it on HardcoreHorrorChick, who stole all the talent. I needed to watch some manly things, like wrestling and football, to get inspiration. Hope the wait was worth your while!

**The Untrained Muse - **Hi, thanks for the review! I'm glad you like the story, and I promise not to die before it's finished. Well, we never really know when we're going to kick the bucket, but you know what I mean. And I'm going to have to agree with you on your He-man comment; we don't really need him, do we?

**Eva91 - **Hey there! Glad you liked the story and I'm glad to here your thoughts on upcoming chapters! And thanks for the praise on the sentry-scene; it was my favorite part to write.

**Ebby -** Thank you, I had a very nice birthday! Thanks for the review, also; I'm glad you liked the Jamie/Morty scene. I think it was one of my finest moments…Yeah, I'm also proud of how the trouncing went; I like my villains vicious. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own He-man or any affiliates thereof. This is for my own sick entertainment.

**WARNING: This chapter contains language most foul, courtesy of Mortiferus' potty mouth. I do hope you forgive us, but I thought it necessary to convey his emotional distress.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

**End Game: Part One**

* * *

The wind howled mournfully through chilled halls of the castle, having seeped its way in through various cracks and crevices found between the ancient stones that had been laid hundreds of years ago. It whistled and warped its way around the corners of the corridors, following some invisible lead that only it could sense. With the wind came the irrepressible cold, sharp and biting to the point of being painful.

The fortress groaned, its walls protesting against the inevitable approach of time and impending decay. Its stony foundations were already beginning to crumble in some places and the wooden beams that fortified the ceiling were beginning to rot. Rats infested some of the more decrepit rooms, and water dripped from cracks in the ceiling and walls.

A droplet fell on Skeletor's arm and he looked at it with more than a little contempt. He was already thinking how run down the place was and how he would _never_ allow Snake Mountain to become so unkempt. Cleanliness was as much as a virtue to villains as it was to heroes. It guarded against clutter and losing something important.

The room itself wasn't actually messy, just big and………well, he supposed that "old" would probably be the best word for it. There was at least an inch of dust covering the table in the corner, and cobwebs formed a sort of labyrinth among a pile of debris from who-knew-what. Six columns paralleled each other at either end of the room, which, he quickly noted, would provide adequate protection if the need arose.

The room was big enough to wage a small war in, and one could use the immediate surroundings to gain an advantage over his opponents, should he so chose. Speaking of opponents, Skeletor's was being overly arrogant, and it appeared that he would continue to be so until the last breath was squeezed from his lungs.

"So how shall we do this?" Mortiferus calmly asked as he removed the bracers that he wore on his arms.

He wasn't concerned that he was being circled, his enemies acting like scavengers hovering about dying prey. He wasn't worried about the secretive glance that Skeletor shared with Evil-lyn and the cunning smirk that he received in return. He probably didn't even notice Tri-Klops ducking behind one of the pillars and out of sight.

These things went unnoticed because he was too busy taunting and cooing about his imminent triumph. He had been doing so for the past ten minutes. Defeat was an inconceivable concept to him. It was as implausible as death.

"Is this going to be strictly hand-to-hand or shall magic be implemented as well?" he continued to ask. It was hard to tell if he was making small talk or cracking jokes, for that dreadful smirk was plastered on his face like he never took it off. It sat there, cruel, mocking, and dreadfully debasing. Skeletor wanted to rip it off of Mortiferus' face and throw it in the dirt. He deserved no less.

"I don't care how you fight," Skeletor patronized, "it won't matter in the end; you're going to be defeated regardless." He stood there, regal and ready as he watched Mortiferus remove certain articles of his garment. If this was to be a precursor of how the man fought, then Skeletor knew that he was wasting his time. It didn't seem worth it, this self-deprecating idleness, standing around and watching his enemy disrobe.

_Foolish_, he thought.

_Asinine_.

Mortiferus didn't seem to notice, though. He just continued to set aside bits and pieces that he didn't want ruined in the fight. Skeletor just wanted to break his legs and be done with it.

"Are you finished?" he growled when Mortiferus stretched his arms above his head.

"Quite," the mage returned, smiling sweetly. "I do hope you aren't put off knowing that you came all this way for nothing," he added, his look cajoling and sympathetic. "You _know _that I won't suffer defeat."

"You'll suffer that and worse," Skeletor announced as he threw aside his cloak and staff. He was tense and impatient, ready to fight as he balled his hands into tight fists. Mortiferus smiled again and took a step to the left; Skeletor moved to the right, on guard for any sudden attacks.

It was of no surprise to the others when their lord dashed forward, faster than the average human eye could follow, and punched Mortiferus squarely across the face. The man jerked back from the force and Skeletor quickly performed an uppercut across his chin. Mortiferus stumbled back, palming his face where he had been struck. He was still smiling, much to Skeletor's fury; by all rights he should've at least fell to his knees from the force of impact. After all, Skeletor's punches were a force to be reckoned with.

"Lovely," the man praised, mocking as he wiped the side of his mouth. "Beautiful form."

Skeletor stiffened and his fists clenched in anger. The brat was tougher than he appeared to be. Any normal man would've been floored by two such hits, but it seemed that Mortiferus was not like normal men. _Damn,_ Skeletor thought to himself. _I was hoping to end this quickly._ There would be no such luck with this opponent, he concluded, so he sighed and drew his sword.

Sword fighting was one of his strong points, just as it was Tri-Klops'. The two men often sparred against one another, honing their skills to a deadly perfection. It had taken years of practice, trials and errors, and experience for Skeletor to achieve the level of expertise that he had, but it had all been well worth it. When Mortiferus saw the gleam of Skeletor's wickedly sharp blade, he started to laugh.

"So this shall be a test of steel?" he asked, drawing his own weapon. "You give up pretty quickly," he continued to jibe. "I wonder how long it'll take you to exhaust this method before turning to another. One minute? Two? Care to wager?"

Skeletor lunged at him out of nowhere, the tip of his sword pointed straight at the smirking bastard's face. It was a mad thrust, executed in a fit of anger, but it met its mark, or would have, if Mortiferus hadn't managed to dodge out of the way at the last moment. As it was, he wasn't fast enough and the blade drew a ragged line across his cheek. Somewhere in the background, Jamie shrieked.

Mortiferus skipped backwards, holding a hand to his bleeding wound and snarling angrily. Either he hadn't expected the blow to land or he was just furious that he had allowed himself to drop his guard. He silently promised himself that it wouldn't happen again.

"That wasn't very nice," he spat, wiping the blood off his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt. "I shall have to remind myself to pay you in kind."

Skeletor remained silent and had lowered himself into a crouching stance, and was ready to stab upwards if Mortiferus rushed him. He obviously wasn't taking any chances with this fight. It irritated him, that he actually had to put some effort into it. The very knowledge of the fact that he wasn't going to be going home anytime soon was disheartening. _Blasted, ignorant fool,_ Skeletor thought angrily.

Mortiferus sprinted to the right and quickly swung his sword above his head, preparing to bring it down on Skeletor, but his plan of attack had been foreseen by other members of the opposing party and out of nowhere he was hit with a powerful ball of magic. He was lifted about a yard or two off of the ground and thrown back about fifteen feet; he rolled over a couple times before coming to a stop.

Skeletor looked to Evil-lyn just in time to see a wicked smile cross her face. She had retrieved the Havoc Staff, and both its head and the ball of her own staff were glowing.

"Evil-lyn," he stated, "I don't remember asking for your help." The smirk quickly turned into a haughty frown as she began to pout.

"Very well," she snipped, "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, next time you're getting thrown about."

Skeletor ignored her and went over to where Mortiferus had fallen. Upon reaching the prone form of his adversary, Skeletor kicked him in the ribs to roll him over; blood had been collecting in a small pool beneath Mortiferus' head and Skeletor could see the wet, shiny spot in his hair where his scalp had split. "Hnh," was the most intelligible sound he could make.

"Trapjaw, come tie him up," Skeletor ordered.

The cyborg came forward, the expression on his face akin to that of a child who had just received a new toy to play with. His amusement was short lived, however, when he bent over to do as his master had told him; Mortiferus suddenly came to life, swinging his legs in an arc and bringing them to hook behind Trapjaw's head. Evil-lyn looked on in silent awe as he twisted his entire body, throwing the much larger man to the side.

"Fascinating," she commented out loud. "I had honestly thought you to be either dying or dead."

"Shut up, you damn, fucking whore!" Mortiferus snarled, clutching his side and wincing in pain. "I'll deal with you later, and when I do, you'll wish you had _never _been born!"

The witch raised an eyebrow in surprise while a feeling of dread grew in her stomach at his words. From what she knew of him, he seemed to be a man of his word and without mercy; he would do what he pleased with her, if given the chance. But Skeletor had heard him and was rapidly moving towards him, a malicious glint in his eye sockets.

"You…will…learn…respect…when…you…speak!" he shouted, punctuating each word with a vicious punch. Mortiferus slumped to his knees after the last strike, groaning and cradling his tortured jaw. His entire face hurt like nothing he had ever experienced; he had never suffered such a vicious, concentrated assault before. The first punch he had received should have been an indicator of what he was getting into, but he had brushed it aside. Now he was regretting it.

Mortiferus lifted his head to glare at his attacker, to dare him to come any closer, but Skeletor still hadn't finished with him and took a handful of the boy's long hair in his fist, yanking him up off of the ground and to eye level. He drew his fist back an punched the other man across the jaw in several consecutive hits, never once releasing his hold on him. Mortiferus gurgled as he was continuously pounded, blood seeping from his mouth and nose. Another punch and his bones groaned under the pressure. Two more and he felt three of his molars crack.

He screamed in agony as he felt his nose break, and by the time Skeletor was finally satisfied, Mortiferus looked as if he had been beaten by an entire gang of Caligars. Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth in a continuous flow and his jaw hung crookedly. A low whine escaped his throat as he shuddered and clutched at his face. It was a sad sight, capable of inducing pity in even the most hardened of warriors, but Skeletor was unmoved and resolute in his decisions.

"Oh, Evil-lyn," he sang out in a sickly sweet tone, "do come and finish him off, won't you?"

"Why, certainly!" she replied in the same mocking voice. Her step was quick and light as she approached Mortiferus and a deadly smirk was on her lips. She held her staff in front of her like a lance, as if to spear the man who had insulted her so viciously. She did not strike him, though, but caressed the side of his face with the staff's ball. He winced and snarled as she pushed against him none too gently, putting pressure on his wounds.

"You're weak," she stated, looking him dead in the eye. "You're weak and you know it. That's why you feel the need to pick on those who can't fight back. You're less than a man; you're _nothing_."

The crystal ball atop Evil-lyn's staff began to glow in pulsating tones, growing brighter and brighter each time. She brought it dangerously close to his face again, until it was practically touching his forehead. He looked like one great mess to her; blood dripped down the side of his face and neck, his clothing was torn, and a blood vessel behind his right eye had burst. He looked awful, but not awful enough for her.

Evil-lyn swung her staff with all her might, bringing it to smash against the side of Mortiferus' head. There as a spurt of blood followed by heavy streaming of the copious fluid as he flopped to the side and rolled onto his back. His eyes fluttered and he appeared to be unconscious………or dead.

"How pathetic," Evil-lyn murmured to herself. Skeletor clapped his hands together, praising the out come of the quick battle. It hadn't looked too promising from the beginning, but Skeletor had already forgotten about his misgivings and was ready to move forward.

"We'll split up in pairs…," he began to say as Trapjaw and Evil-lyn joined him at his side. Across the room, Jamie was being released from her bonds.

"Is he dead?" she kept asking, squirming this way and that and Tri-Klops struggled to undo the strong rope that bound her arms to her sides.

"I don't know," he said impatiently, forcing her to sit still. The moment she was able to move Jamie leapt to her feet and ran towards the fallen form of her brother. She needed to know that he was dead, but she also hoped that he was somehow still alive; sadistic bastard or not, he was still family, if only in the most estranged sense possible.

Before she could reach him, however, Skeletor stepped out in her way and she crashed into him. He grabbed her by her shoulders and picked her up off the ground, glaring at her with a dangerous intensity in his eye sockets.

"And just _what_ were you thinking?" Skeletor asked in a crisp, no-nonsense tone of voice. Jamie bared her teeth at him an struggled viciously, but was unsuccessful in her attempt to escape. Her physical frustration turned into angry tears an she began to cry, relaxing her body in defeat. Skeletor let go of her and watched with indifference as she dropped to the floor.

"_You killed him_!" she sobbed into her hands.

"Why does this surprise you?" he asked. "Have you forgotten your vendetta so soon? I was merely fulfilling your request."

"He was my _brother_!"

"Yet you still wanted him dead. I fail to see your point; what were you getting at?"

Jamie practically snarled, but said nothing. How could she deny the truth of Skeletor's words?

"Still my brother," she whispered defiantly, letting her tears fall without wiping them aside. The others ignored her as they turned to leave; only Tri-Klops waited for her to dry her eyes and stand up. There was concern in the frown that he wore, but he offered little comfort.

"Come on," he said, placing a hand on Jamie's shoulder and giving a brief squeeze. She sniffed and stare at him with watery eyes.

"He's dead," she quivered, "he has to be buried." Tri-Klops shook his head and tightened his grip.

"The others won't wait," he said. "They want to find his secret to immortality and get out of here. I don't blame them for wanting to-"

"His neck."

"What?"

"He wears an amulet round his neck that makes him immortal."

Tri-Klops moved instantly, striding over to where Mortiferus lay and stripping his shirt open.

"What's goin' on?" Trapjaw asked, having stopped to wait for the other two to catch up.

"He wears something that gives him immortality," Tri-Klops said, repeating Jamie's words. "It's somewhere on his body."

Skeletor wandered back to join them as Tri-Klops meticulously searched every inch of the corpse, simultaneously taking his pulse and clarifying that Mortiferus was, indeed, dead. Jamie tried her best to watch, but no matter how hard she tried to look away her eyes continued to wander back to her brother's body. Finally she couldn't take it anymore and just close her eyes, blocking the sight out altogether. After a few minutes she heard Tri-Klops say, "It isn't here," an opened her eyes to see them all staring at her expectantly.

"What?" she asked.

"It's not here," Tri-Klops said. "He doesn't have the amulet. Where is it?" Jamie crossed her arms and shrugged while biting her lip.

"I don't know where it would be; I didn't think that he ever took it off."

"And you have no clue where this bauble might be?" Skeletor pressed, looking for clues. But Jamie just shook her head.

"It could be in his room, but I don't know where that is either."

"Then we must search everywhere," Skeletor concluded, straightening his posture. "We'll split into four groups. Evil-lyn and Trapjaw, you scour this floor. I'll head up to the next level and Tri-Klops and Jamie, I expect you to move down below. Contact me if you find anything, otherwise we'll rendezvous back here in an hour." Everyone nodded in understanding and stood to leave, heading off alone or with their partner; Tri-Klops remained behind to wait for Jamie.

"Come _on_," he urged, giving her shoulder a quick shake. Jamie cast one last despairing glance at her brother's body before allowing Tri-Klops to lead her away. She didn't know why she felt this way. She had wanted him dead, in compliance with her father's last wishes. It had been a goal that she had pursued for the last several years of her life, and now that that goal had been accomplished she was having second thoughts.

The expression on Jamie's face as she reluctantly retreated from Mortiferus' still form lingered somewhere between utterly appalled and maliciously triumphant. _He deserved it_, she kept repeating to herself. _After all he's said and done, by the gods he deserves it_. To her it sounded as if she were just trying to convince herself.

They say that you can't live with a person without forming some sort of intimate bond with them, and even if Jamie had hated her brother from the very beginning, there was nothing that she could've done to stop the deeply imbedded feelings of sibling attachment from developing. She had cared for him, had looked up to him when she had been younger, idolizing him for all that he had stood for in her life. Even after they had become estranged from their parents she remained by his side, loyal and unwavering to the man that was of her own blood.

When he had begun exhibiting signs of madness she had dismissed his mood swings and odd behaviour as a phase, refusing to believe that the big brother that she had always adored was finally turning into the monster that he had threatened to become at the age of sixteen.

She had ignored his monstrous sexual appetite and had pretended not to hear the screams and wails emanating from the dungeons at night. She had looked away as he had begun to delve into the darker, more volatile realm of black magic and torture. She became blinded by her devotion to him and had steadily denied what had been presented so blatantly before her eyes.

The only time she had suspected that she might have been wrong to give Mortiferus, at that time known only as Ailil to her, her complete and utter trust was when he had mentioned to her that it would be wise to dispose of their parents. He had laughed at her horrified expression, soothing her fear by telling her that he hadn't meant it, that it was just a joke.

Things had gotten worse after that.

They had fought and Jamie had ended up parting ways. Of course, that hadn't lasted too long and she was soon back by his side, letting him poison her mind while all the while forcing herself to believe that it was for her own good. His manipulative persuasion had eventually led to the death of their parents, an event in which Jamie had played a large part in.

As her father had died in her arms, Jamie had seemed to be shaken from her brother's sphere of influence and had vowed revenge on him. He had disappeared immediately following the murder of their mother and father, and Jamie spent several years attempting to track him down. She received several leads and hints about his whereabouts, but every single one of them led to dead ends. Eventually she had just given up and settled own in a small, isolated village far away from her memories.

She had never expected her feelings of revenge to reignite, and she had never thought that she would've asked for help, considering that it was a familial issue. In fact, she hadn't _really_ believed that her brother would ever be killed. Now that all her previous beliefs had been proven wrong, she was unsure of where she stood in the grand scheme of things. It had hurt to see him mercilessly beaten, but it had also felt good.

She had cried because of him and for him.

She was terrified of him and for him.

She love him and hated him.

The jumble of conflicting emotions drove her mind into a state of confused oblivion and she wordlessly followed Tri-Klops out of the room and back to the stairs that would take them down to the dungeons. She didn't bother to look back again; the scene wouldn't have changed. But, had she chanced to glance back at her brother, she just might have noticed the slight rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled.

* * *

The crunching of bones reverberated throughout the now empty room, bouncing off the walls and echoing loudly. A squelching noise that could've been the repair of a ruptured internal organ sounded a bit softer, but was nonetheless spine tingling. There was a pop or two as joints were shoved back into place and a snapping sound as broken bones realigned themselves. The blood that had collected on the floor evaporated with a hiss, disappearing without a trace.

Mortiferus gasped for air as his lungs struggled to survive the realignment of collapsed ribs, and he fought to rise to his knees. He could still taste the coppery essence of his own blood on his tongue, but it no longer leaked from his nose or lip. He was sore, but no longer injured to the point of incapacitation. He was whole again.

He rose to his feet, breathing deeply and clenching his fists as he looked around the room for signs of his enemies. Seeing none he closed his eyes and extended his consciousness to accompany several neighboring rooms. They too were empty, but he felt the presence of the witch and the freak not much further away.

Opening his eyes, he took he time to calculate his options. He had underestimated them, allowed them to defeat him. He now knew that the only way to confront them was with sheer, brute force. It was the only way.

He exhaled and drew in another deep breath, forcing himself to relax. He felt the familiar pull of dark magic as it rushed through his body, manipulating his muscles and bones and transforming them into something else. There was immense pain, but he reveled in it and let it wash over him, bathing in it like some higher form of pleasure. The black magic invaded every crevice of his brain and imbued him with powers that he had yet seen fit to release. Now it appeared that he had no choice; he had allowed them to gain the upper hand.

At first he had considered _letting_ them win, just to get an idea of how they fought and to build within them a false confidence, and he had started out with that mentality, but by the time he realized that Skeletor and his crew were out for blood and that they possessed the necessary skills to achieve it, it was too late. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice; this time he wouldn't allow them an inch. He would attack them with everything he had and they wouldn't know what hit them. He coughed a bit as he started out the door, but his trademark smirk was in place and the evil gleam in his crystalline eyes had tripled.

"Fuck them," he murmured to himself.

"Fuck them _hard_."

* * *

**A/N: **It's been longer than normal, but I have an excuse this time: I was busy graduating. I graduated, Class of 2007, rank: valedictorian. Score for me. I got into college too. Flagler college in St. Augustine, Florida. Maybe I'll see someone there someday. After I graduated I was just lazy. I can't tell you how much this chapter has been kicking my ass for the past four months. I beg for your forgiveness. THEN (if you can believe it) the motherboard of my desktop got fried in a freak lightning storm that also killed several people, so now I operate off of a laptop. I blame all of my misspelled words on this damn keyboard; the "D" button hates me, I swear. I love everyone of you! Please Read and Review!


	24. End Game Pt 2

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* * *

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**Chapter Twenty-Four**

**End Game: Part Two**

* * *

Tri-Klops was not looking forward to the descent back into what could only be described as madness, but Skeletor had demanded the dungeons be searched, despite the unlikelihood of Mortiferus ever stowing anything of vast significance within its dark bowels. Other, more personal reasons factored into his distaste but were ultimately irrelevant when it came to what Skeletor wanted. Regardless, he was going to have a very long talk with Jamie after this was all over. Speaking of which, had he known the girl was terrified of the dark he would have left her at the top of the spiraling staircase. Anything was better than having her cling to his arm like a child.

"And you have the nerve to label yourself a warrior," he scoffed for the umpteenth time.

"It's not my fault!" Jamie whined, closing her eyes tightly against the imposing blackness of what she guessed was a long hall. "I have _never_ liked the dark; living on those islands…..there were _things_ there which scared me half to death."

Tri-Klops ignored her, deciding if the babbling made her feel safe, there was no harm in letting her mouth run off. There was no one to hear her; after all, most of the guards had either run off or been killed. Shaking his arm to get Jamie to loosen her grip, Tri-Klops silently stalked to a wooden door constructed differently than the others which lined the hall. Through the use of his visor's night-vision (one of the few settings which still worked after its haphazard removal), Tri-Klops was able to discern the width and height of the door was double that of any other. This one was also padlocked. Perhaps Mortiferus _had_ stored some valuable items down here.

"Jamie," he said, startling the girl with his abruptness, "do you still have that skeleton key you told me about?"

"Yeah," Jamie answered after a quick pat to her hidden pocket. "Do you need it?"

"No, but you do; pick this lock. There might be something of interest on the other side."

Jamie sighed and mumbled mutinously but obediently hunkered down where Tri-Klops led her to. The padlock, found after a brief, blind search, felt heavy and rusted in her hands. She doubted the lock even worked but Tri-Klops seemed to think there was something in the room worth checking out. Jamie could have told him in three different languages the amulet wouldn't be there, but he wouldn't believe her. If he did he would check the room regardless, if only to annoy her.

"I don't suppose you could just blast it," Jamie grumbled as she accidentally scraped her key against the broadside of the lock, searching for the keyhole with her fingers.

"My lasers have been disabled," Tri-Klops snapped. "There's no way of fixing them until I can get back to my lab."

"Oh," Jamie said, disappointed and even more nervous. She had faith in Tri-Klops' skills as a swordsman, but the optic blasts were good for long range combat. She could only hope they weren't needed.

"You can still see alright, though, right?" she asked awkwardly just as she managed to find the keyhole. The skeleton key wouldn't slide in as easily as she would have liked, so Jamie set her jaw and pushed as hard as she could. The key slid home with a slight click.

"I can see, yes," Tri-Klops finally answered after checking to see if Jamie was able to force the key without assistance. "However, should something happen to disable my sight receptors, we might be in some trouble."

"Why's that?" Jamie asked, grunting and cursing as the key refused to turn.

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

The blatant dread in her voice alerted Tri-Klops to the impending shitstorm but he plowed ahead, figuring she had to find out eventually.

"I would have thought you would have figured it out by now," he said slowly, "but without this visor I'm blind." Jamie stopped dead in the middle of her lock-picking, swearing she heard wrong.

"Excuse me?" she asked in a deadly serious voice. "You're _blind_?"

"Yes. I would have thought it obvious…"

"Well _obviously_ not, since it's news to me. You can't see _anything_ at _all_?"

"I can see…shadows, mainly, sometimes shapes in well lit areas. I'm not completely blind, but unfortunately it's enough to be a problem."

Jamie groaned aloud and buried her face in her hands. She thought the situation had been bad enough when Tri-Klops told her his lasers were out; she could only hope and pray to the old gods his system wouldn't shut down or anything. It was bad enough she couldn't see in the dark and the only bit of solace she found with Tri-Klops was that he could still see through artificial means. If both of them were blind, however, there was no telling what could happen. Jamie knew she was letting her imagination take over but the fear was very real to her.

_**Betcha you're feeling smart now, aye? **_

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

Reaper's added input was not helping; if anything, Jamie was beginning to panic. Too much had happened too fast, and she hadn't enough time to properly adjust to it all. She felt like fainting but Tri-Klops would kill her, and if he didn't, Skeletor would.

"You could have told me," she eventually whispered as she tried not to think too hard about what would happen if his visor really did quit on him. Tri-Klops shrugged, took her hand, and put it back on the lock.

"I don't usually advertise," he said as Jamie began fiddling with the lock. Finally the skeleton key clicked into place and the rusty old lock gave up. It popped open with a loud, resounding click and fell to the floor. Neither moved to open the door.

"Well?" Jamie asked.

"Just push," Tri-Klops said as he grabbed the handle and thrust his weight against the door. The hinges gave a loud, protesting groan before finally shifting, and inch by inch the door was opened. The first thing they noticed was the smell. Jamie gagged, turned back into the hall and threw up, but Tri-Klops couldn't leave. He couldn't stop looking.

"It smells like something died in there!" he heard Jamie complain. She didn't know how right she was. The bodies were everywhere: piled against the wall, still bound to torture racks, and some even hung from rafters in the ceiling. The corpses were in various states of decomposition, the amount of time they had been dead varying from years to mere hours. Fresh blood spotted the floor and covered parts of the wall, painting a macabre picture of death and violence.

Peering closer, Tri-Klops saw some of the fresher bodies wore expressions of extreme agony on their rotting faces. Their mouths were twisted open in silent screams, testifying to the horror which had taken place. He also noticed how a great majority of the victims appeared to be women. There was no doubt in his mind about what Mortiferus had done to these people. Tri-Klops had seen horrible deaths on the battlefield, and worse in dungeons, but nothing compared to this. Nothing was _this_ horrendous.

"So is there anything there?" he heard from the hall.

Taking one last glance around the room and praying there were no more like it, he left and began dragging Jamie to the next door.

"It's empty," he heard himself lie. "The smell was just old air."

Jamie didn't believe him for a second, but the tone of his voice suggested she drop the subject before she discovered something she would rather remain ignorant of. She knew Tri-Klops as a man who rarely, if ever, allowed circumstances to rattle his senses, but something had done just that; she could feel it in the way he hurriedly ushered her away from the area and from his quiet, clipped tone. Her questions were put on hold for the time being as she allowed Tri-Klops to lead her further and further down the dark passage, still unsure what they would find.

She knew Skeletor wanted the amulet badly enough to split up the entire team. If he had brought along more reinforcements Jamie wouldn't have minded. Even Stinkor and Merman would have been welcome company in these dismal dungeons. Jamie didn't think she'd ever forgive Skeletor for some of the mistakes he had made, just as she wouldn't forgive herself in wavering over her decision to have her brother killed.

"It's not down here," she mumbled after being shown to another door, this one with a slightly smaller, less rusted lock. She groped for the thing and steadied her key, going to work regardless of her tone.

"It doesn't matter," Tri-Klops replied, waiting for the lock to come undone, "Skeletor gave us orders and he'd know if we didn't follow through. Even if we don't find the amulet there might be something of value we can bring back with us."

Mortiferus had kept some pretty strange items in some of these rooms, so Tri-Klops had a point. Still, as she opened door after door Jamie couldn't help but think this was all a waste of time and that their skills could have been put to use in better areas. The stench from the first room was beginning to permeate the halls, also, and the halls were so dark… Jamie wanted nothing more than to run back up the stairs where there was still light, especially after a rustling noise gave her a fright.

"It's nothing," Tri-Klops snapped after she had spun around with a squeak of terror. "You're letting your imagination run away with you, now pay _attention_ and get to work!"

"No," she pushed back, her eyes wide open and blindly searching for the direction of the noise she _knew_ she had heard, "I heard _something_. We're being followed…we need to leave, now!"

Tri-Klops grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and squeezed harshly, frowning when she went limp with obedience, almost curling in on herself to escape the pressure. Maybe it was just her emotions carrying over, but he could have sworn…no, he had heard nothing, it was probably just the creak of one of the old doors they had opened earlier.

"Stop it," he ordered sternly, drawing her close and whispering in her ear. "I don't have time for this! We'll leave as soon as--"

_Shhhfffff._

_Shhhfffff._

"You heard that, right?!" Jamie mewled, prying his hand from her neck and scooting around him to hide from whatever was shuffling their way. She couldn't even begin to surmise what she was hearing, but knowing Mortiferus and how paranoid he had become, she wouldn't put anything past him.

"Shut up…it might just be a breeze."

"_What breeze?!_ We're _inside!!_"

Jamie's hysteria slowly built as the shuffling noise became louder as it neared. Goosebumps prickled along her skin, raising the hair on her arms and the back of her neck. Maybe it was just her imagination playing out, but it was getting colder and colder by the second. She had the distinct feeling that she'd be able to see her breath within the room if there had been a light. Groaning aloud when Tri-Klops set his hand on her waist and pushed her back, Jamie shivered, believing they were about to die.

"What is it?" she whispered, unable to take the suspense.

"I don't know," came a gruff reply. "I don't see anything…"

Even with the help of his visor, Tri-Klops could see nothing down the entire length of the hall; there was just the brick and the empty torch mounts lining the walls. They closed the doors after checking them and there was no way they could have been followed without knowing. Tri-Klops peered down the hall and pinpointed on a black spot that might've been the entrance to the stairs, but there was no one else around. Clearly their minds were playing tricks on them, making Jamie hear things which weren't really there and then allowing her fear to carry over and affect his own senses as well.

Making a mental note to sleep for a week once back at Snake Mountain, Tri-Klops sighed and dropped his hand from his visor, positive there was no danger. Jamie wasn't so sure.

"You swear there's nothing?" she asked, her hand still on the small dagger Tri-Klops had given her earlier.

"Positive, there's abs--"

The small point of black swept down the hall, becoming a giant wall of solid blackness which defeated even the infrared vision of Tri-Klops' goggles. He yelled and drew his sword immediately but still there was no one to attack. The darkness froze the hair on his arms and gave him goosebumps. Beside him, Jamie's teeth chattered loudly.

"Trike," she whispered, afraid of what just happened.

"Quiet," he ordered sharply, attempting to coax his visor into changing lens in hopes of piercing through the impenetrable black surrounding them. No such luck. He was completely blinded. Jamie had obeyed his last word and stood behind Tri-Klops for what seemed like an eternity. The cold ran over them in currents, like the breath of a great dragon and somehow Jamie couldn't help but feel as if there were someone else there with them, breathing down their necks and ready to suffocate them. Tri-Klops could also feel something _wrong_ with this darkness, something sinister and ancient.

Finally, when both felt safe enough to move, the darkness came crashing down on them, forcing them to the floor. Tri-Klops fought, Jamie screamed, and then they knew no more.

* * *

**A/N: **Omigawd...she's not dead...


	25. End Game Pt 3

**Thank you so much all who reviewed last chapter! Not much farther to go now!**

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**Chapter 25**

**End Game Part Three**

* * *

Evil-lyn and Trapjaw perused the extensive library, searching for secret compartments among the bookshelves and glancing at books' titles every so often. Centuries old dust coated some of the shelves of the towering wooden bookcases and crusted the floor. Evil-lyn held a hand over her nose and mouth to keep from sneezing. Trapjaw, oblivious to her plight as always, kept knocking the books to the floor and disturbing the dust. An hour passed since Skeletor ordered them to sweep the ground and second floors of the castle and they had yet to find anything even remotely resembling an amulet. Evil-lyn doubted they would find it at all.

"Jamie said he wore it _all the time_," she finally said, unable to stand the silence any longer and feeling the need to voice her own thoughts.

"So?" Trapjaw responded, not really interested as he used his claw to swipe a whole row of books off their shelf.

"_So_, why would Mortiferus hide the blasted thing here?"

"Dunno. Maybe he used it as a bookmark or somethin'."

Evil-lyn rolled her eyes and sniffed to herself. Trapjaw was a useless conversationalist, especially if it meant using his brain. If he had one.

"Oooh!" she crooned, forgetting all about her lumbering cohort as she spotted a few volumes of magic she didn't own. She immediately knelt down and pulled one of the heavy tomes into her lap, shuddering pleasantly as she opened the gilded cover to reveal a page of symbols and ancient Eternian text. Well, she would have to translate everything, which would take time, but it could be done. Her breath quickened in excitement as she turned the thick pages, growing more and more anxious to go home with every new spell she found. Some of the pages, she noticed, had margins full of a darkly, looping scrawl, notes left by some previous student, perhaps.

_Maybe Mortiferus' handwriting_, she thought, noticing that the notes were also in ancient Eternian. She'd have to translate those as well, but Evil-lyn had a feeling her efforts would be well worth the time. She flipped through a few more pages before grabbing the other two volumes and hauling them into her lap. With a few mumbled incantations the books disappeared, safely stored in zero space, the cavity of emptiness which existed in a state of invisibility between the dimensions.

When she stood up and dusted her legs off, she noticed Trapjaw standing nearby with several books under his arms, and he was staring at her as if he wanted something.

"Hmmm," Evil-lyn hummed, tapping a finger to her chin, "now what could you possibly want with those? I've never seen you read…"

"Ehh, they ain't fer me an' you know it. Trike might like 'em though…"

"Aw, how sweet…"

"Shut up an' just stick 'em somewhere."

Graciously Evil-lyn did as Trapjaw said, planning on holding the books hostage to see if she could get him to do a favor for her. Other than the books, scrolls, and dust the library contained nothing of importance. They scoured every inch of the room and checked every shelf, just in case. By the time the room began to grow cold, both Trapjaw and Evil-lyn were nursing very short fuses.

"Ugh," Evil-lyn shivered, rubbing her arms futilely, "there must be a draft in here. Figures, with how old this castle is."

Trapjaw exhaled to see his breath and shrugged. He had tough skin and didn't mind the cold as much as scantily clad Evil-lyn. Still, it _was_ getting pretty chilly.

"Maybe a window got knocked out or somethin'," he replied, throwing some books to the floor as he swept a shelf for any sign of objects which shouldn't belong.

"Must be a big window," Evil-lyn grumbled, rubbing her hands together, "Let me just heat things up a bit." Trapjaw rolled his eyes as she began to utter a short incantation, convinced women were the strangest people in all of Eternia.

As Evil-lyn spun her minor spell her eyes glowed and her staff's orb crackled with magical energy. For a brief moment the room began to heat up. Trapjaw could no longer see his breath and Evil-lyn regained some feeling in her fingers. With the fierce chill retreating the two warriors felt more at ease within the cavernous library. Something about the warmth had reminded them of home, of the lava pools and the sweltering heat of Snake Mountain they were all accustomed to.

"That's more like it," Trapjaw inhaled deeply, his chest puffing out a bit as he enjoyed the warm air. "Can't wait t' get back t' Snake Mountain and outta this forsaken coldzone."

Evil-lyn agreed and opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when a strange sound reached her ears.

_Shhhfffff. Shhhfffff. Shhhfffff._

"What was that?" she asked, spinning around and holding her staff in front of her. She dropped into a defensive stance and expertly swept the room, staring into the darkest corners of the library and trying her hardest to see around the ends of the bookshelves. Trapjaw fell into position as well, switching his claw for an intimidating laser cannon. The sound reminded him of dead weight being dragged across the floor, and since he and Evil-lyn were the only two people within the room the only logical conclusion was that not all of the guards were properly disposed of.

"Do you see anything?"

"Nah. Where did it come from?"

"Hard to tell; this room is large and the walls are made out of stone, perfect for conducting echoes."

"Great, so it could've come from anywhere."

Evil-lyn nodded and slowly waved her staff back and forth in front of her, letting the glowing orb illuminate what areas the torches' light failed to reach. She saw nothing but dust and a few small, scurrying vermin. The only sound she could hear was the faint howl of the wind and the constant clicking and whirring of the gears in Trapjaw's arm. Still, the hair on the back of her neck was prickling and she still felt the unwanted sensation of someone staring at her.

"Check between the bookcases," she ordered Trapjaw quietly, climbing the steps to scout out the second level of the library.

"I don't think there's anyone here but us," Trapjaw ventured as he obediently trained his cannon before him.

"Don't be an idiot," Evil-lyn sneered, "we both heard the same noise! Only a fool would dismiss it as unimportant." She was certain danger of some sort was approaching. The trick was discerning who was behind the potential attack.

The room itself appeared to be secure and an expert search yielded neither hidden traps nor guards left behind to spring an ambush. Trapjaw sounded very smug as he reported nothing suspicious on the lower level, making Evil-lyn grind her teeth in frustration. She'd sooner die than admit to a mistake, however possible it was she had made one. Instead of acknowledging Trapjaw's near tangible air of superiority, Evil-lyn climbed back down to the lower level of the library and began to perform another spell.

"Aw, c'mon!" Trapjaw groaned the moment she closed her eyes and whispered the incantation, "There's nothin' down here!"

"No," Evil-lyn countered sharply, her brow furrowing as she attempted to maintain concentration, "there's another nearby…someone skilled in the use of magic…I can't pinpoint his location…"

An uncomfortable silence passed by and Trapjaw scuffed his boots loudly and rubbed his cramped side. The room was growing cold again, probably because the minor spell Evil-lyn cast wore off. She was so busy trying to find some supposed magic-user she didn't even notice. Not for the first time in his life Trapjaw wished he still had his other arm intact, if only to wrap around himself to keep from being too cold. Come to think about it, he thought the room was getting even chillier than before. Maybe there was more than one window open.

"Why don'tcha put that that magic to use an' warm it up again," he grumbled, hunching his shoulders. Evil-lyn paid him no attention and cast the tendrils of her consciousness around, feeling around for any more traces of the unknown magic user. Probably just a court magician or something, maybe someone Mortiferus kept around to entertain himself with, or maybe even a protégé. She could sense an entity…but it seemed to be coming from all around.

_So strange_, she thought to herself, opening her eyes once more. _I should easily be able to find him_… Trapjaw was not helping any, with all his fidgeting and mumbled complaints about the cold, when they had much bigger problems to worry about. Although, now that her attention was no longer solely focused on finding a rogue wizard she did notice how much colder it was.

"Odd," she murmured to herself.

"I think you're losin' your touch, Trapjaw sneered, proving his point by exhaling into the near frigid air. A plume of steam issued forth from his mouth and swirled lazily through the air before dissipating. His blue skin, normally rough to the touch on its own in accordance to his race, was now covered in goosebumps. It was _cold_. Evil-lyn shuddered visibly and crossed her arms.

"I am _not_ losing my touch," she huffed insistently, "my spell shouldn't have worn off so quickly."

"Then why in the seven hells is it colder than a Kulatak's back end?"

"Perhaps the room is a poor conductor for magic. Or maybe the other warlock is behind this. He must be negating my--"

"_There's no one else here_!"

The entity Evil-lyn sensed earlier chose that precise moment to attack, perhaps out of some strange affinity toward dramatic irony. When it moved Evil-lyn saw nothing more than a huge black blur. Trapjaw was slammed against the floor with the force of the blow he received, far too shocked to defend himself. The thing, whatever it was, wrapped around him, somehow smothering him from all angles. He kicked and swung his massive cybernetic arm around, trying to injure his foe. He couldn't see anything, just pure darkness, as if he were blind. Trapjaw roared as he tried to fend off the black mass. It was suffocating him, constricting around his torso until he could hear his ribs beginning to creak in protest. When he opened to his mouth to yell for Evil-lyn the blackness took the opportunity to plunge down his throat. Trapjaw coughed and sputtered as he choked on the wet, slimy fluid, barely able to comprehend what was happening.

"Help!" he managed to garble when whatever was attacking him let up. Evil-lyn, in the split second it took for her to realize Trapjaw was being killed, raised her staff and recited the most simple incantation she could think of.

"_Ancient spirits of the sky, teach this loser how to __**fly**_!"

As if launched by a catapult the black mass flew high into the air and brushed the ceiling before arcing and falling to the floor with a wet thud. The thing had no discernable shape and writhed around before disappearing into the shadows. Trapjaw rolled onto his stomach and began coughing, spitting out a lungful of black phlegm. Evil-lyn sauntered over, glancing around the room suspiciously and keeping her staff close.

"_Loser_?!" Trapjaw rasped incredulously once he managed to stop hacking and wheezing. "_Loser_?! I'm bein' killed and you wanna call _names_?!"

"It was the only thing I could think of on short notice!" Evil-lyn snapped back. "If you had been on your guard perhaps I wouldn't have needed to save you! Again, I might add."

"I had everything under control!"

"Of course you did. You normally fight while lying on your back."

"Oh yeah?! Well how's about you makin' yourself useful and destroyin' whatever it was that just jumped me?"

Evil-lyn grit her teeth and turned away. She turned right into a wall of darkness. There was no time for her to raise her staff or even utter an incantation before the wall came crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She fell to the ground, unconscious, while Trapjaw turned tail and ran. He got no farther than a few yards before a snaky tendril whipped out and tangled itself in his ankles. He too fell to the floor with a thud, clutching at the smooth stone floor for purchase. Not even his hook apparatus could save him from being pulled into the dark mass along with Evil-lyn. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a pair of legs walking toward him, and then the sound of malicious laughter. After that, everything went dark.

* * *

Skeletor was befuddled. Out of all the rooms he searched through, none of them yielded any sign of the immortal stone he desired. He had wasted enough time picking his way through a small armory, a private study, and three cluttered rooms which would have sent Tri-Klops in paroxyms of ecstasy before arriving at the red gilded door. It seemed to be made out of Eternian steel and etched with unrecognizable runes. Skeletor ran a claw down a specific character which mildly resembled the more modern Eternian symbol for 'death' and then attempted to open the door. Then handle did not budge, not even when he threw his entire weight against the door.

_Ah-ha!_ he thought triumphantly, _The only locked door on the entire floor? Covered in Ancient Script? The amulet **must** be in here_…

Chuckling madly to himself, Skeletor stepped back and leveled his ram's head staff at the door; if the Eternian jail cells couldn't hold up to a few laser blasts, then how could this measly slab of metal withstand the might of his magic? Surprisingly, the door gave way after only two moderately powerful magic blasts. Skeletor strode through the destroyed passageway with an implied sneer, thinking only a complete and utter fool would be so lax as to forget to reinforce a barrier against basic magic attacks.

Then again, as the contents of the room came into focus, maybe there wasn't much to protect after all. The room was bare, except for a few misplaced pieces of furniture backed up against the far wall, and dozens of mirrors floating in midair. Skeletor entered the room cautiously, for he knew very well how looks could be deceiving. Such a strange room…certainly not what he expected to find. Still, it was possible the amulet was hidden. He walked up to one of the mirrors and ran his claws across the reflective surface, wondering if it was some sort of puzzle. It was mere curiosity that led him to glance into the mirror to see his reflection, but instead of the gruesome skull he was accustomed to, he saw his face, the way it was before the Great Coup at the Hall of Wisdom.

_It can't be_… he thought incredulously, watching as he ran fleshy fingers over his bearded chin. It was impossible…there was no way such a thing was possible… He stared at himself for a long moment before feeling the old rage return, the absolute hatred he felt toward Randor for ruining his face, and, ultimately, his life. Skeletor suddenly drew back a fist and punched through the mirror, shattering it and cutting himself on the shards. He felt a certain sense of satisfaction as the glass pieces fell to the floor and disappeared with sparks of magic. However, there were still a dozen and a half mirrors still floating, and he knew if he looked into another one he would see some other element from his past. The past remained where it belonged…in the past. Still, it produced no small amount of personal pleasure to destroy each and every one of the floating mirrors.

"Ill-begotten wretch!" he bellowed as he smashed one with his staff. Mortiferus was obviously behind this; he must've been thinking ahead and sought to conceal the amulet in the event he was defeated. Now it was lost forever. Skeletor rampaged about the room, cursing and damning Mortiferus to the finer pits of hell, barely pausing before turning his wrath on the mismatched furniture in the corner. Just before he blasted the smallest night table, he thought he saw it _shudder_. The only thing stopping him from blasting it to smithereens anyways was the inkling that the amulet was somehow still attainable. Strong magic was at work in this room, but Skeletor was stronger than most. He stood back and surveyed the three pieces of furniture with a practiced 'eye', wondering what could possibly be in store for him now. If he had to face one more surprise…

Drawing his energy and focusing it all in his staff, he tapped the floor once and watched as ripples of magic extended outward, growing larger and larger until they touched the battered furniture. The images of an armoire, a dresser, and a table shimmered and wavered, finally melting away and revealing the true nature behind the illusions. While not exactly the surprise he had been steeling himself for, the sight of two young women and a man slumped against the wall was nevertheless a shock.

The elder woman was dead. That much was obvious from her appalling appearance, as well as the pool of blood she lay in. Skeletor cocked his head to the side as he stared at her, admiring the handiwork of her tormentor. She would have been attractive, he supposed, if not for the deterioration of her face and the various pieces of metal welded to the bone of her lower jaw. Looking closer he could see her throat was sliced, a clean-edged wound which had bled her dry. Death may have been instantaneous from the looks of it. The man, a guard by the looks of his armor, was also dead and of little consequence. The girl-child, however, was very much alive.

"What is your name?" Skeletor implored icily, trusting the child to be coherent enough to answer him. She was very small in his eyes, probably no more than ten or eleven summers old, and she looked terrified. She was still shaking tremendously and her fists were clenched on the ground. She had drawn up her knobby knees close to her chest for what little protection she could provide for herself, but in doing so revealed all the sores and raw wounds from her torture. Skeletor snorted at the ungainly sight of the insides of her pale, hairless thighs and repeated his question in a very annoyed tone. He then reached out to grab her by the arm.

"No!" The girl shrieked, swiping at his hand and scooting closer to the dead body of the woman. Tears all but sprang from her eyes and she began to sob before Skeletor even touched her.

"Please don't hurt me," she begged through her tears, "please don't, I'll be good and I'll obey this time, please, please, please don't hurt me anymore!"

"Silence," Skeletor ordered curtly, tapping the ground with his staff again, "Tell me your name and give me the name of the one who did this to you."

The girl sniffled and gave him a hard, untrustworthy look, but answered in a monotone, obedient tone, "Tanny, sir. Lord…Lord M-Mortiferus is the master of this castle and all within. He does with us as he pleases."

An automated response, probably beaten into her. Skeletor expected such an answer and countered with a growl to intimidate Tanny. Harming her at this point would be counterproductive to his search for the amulet and chances were she knew something about where things were kept in the blasted castle.

"He can rot in hell for all I care," Skeletor rumbled, closing in on the girl like a dragon, "just tell me where his damned amulet is and I promise I won't kill you."

If it was possible for Tanny to look any more petrified than she already was, he didn't notice. Her trembling stopped completely, and her eyes were as wide around as game disks. She looked at Skeletor as if he was a Snakeman freshly crawled out of the abyss and shrunk back, hiding her bruised face between her knees. At this fresh form of defiance, Skeletor snapped. He grabbed the child by her neck and hauled her upright against the wall. She screamed immediately and kicked and clawed at him, but he ignored her pathetic attempts to injure him. Within moments he grew tired of Tanny's loud, skull-piercing cries.

It barely took a thought to form a small orb of pure magical energy, and Skeletor slammed it into the wall right beside Tanny's head. It caused a small explosion, a sizable dent, and a lot of dust, making the girl cough and sneeze. Skeleyot waited until the dust was settled before driving his point home.

"I suggest you reevaluate your current status," he drawled silkily, ";est you find yourself in a situation far worse than before. Now…tell me where the damn amulet is!"

"I duh-don't know-uh!" Tanny whimpered as she tried her very best not to cry. "I don't know wuh-what amulet y-you're talking 'bout!"

"The one Mortiferus wore about his neck, the one which made him immortal, you simple girl! You must've seen it!"

Tanny shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to recall _anything_ familiar about her master. She hadn't seen him since he caught her and the other two in his room. She didn't exactly remember what happened right after that. She couldn't remember much of anything lately.

"What's an ah-amulet?" Tanny asked sheepishly, looking up at Skeletor through her lashes.

"Ugh," Skeletor groaned, placing his hand to his forehead, "it's a pretty stone. It'd look like a necklace or something."

"A necklace?" Tanny repeated, the look on her face suddenly hopeful and excited, "I've seen one, I've seen one! It, I mean we found it in here! That's why we were here!"

She stumbled to her feet, mostly through using the wall as support and shakily pointed at the body of the older woman. There were still tears in the girl's eyes, but her voice was steadier than it was before. Skeletor stepped past her to the dead woman and ripped her robe away from her. She wore no chain around her neck and the rest of her body was as mauled as her face. Tanny gave a small shriek at the side of the bloody, exposed ribs and the hooks which drew them closer together. The skin was peeled away from the breasts and lower abdomen, so much so the woman should not have lived through the excruciating pain. Even if she had survived the skinning, she would have died from blood loss. Curious, Skeletor knelt in front of the corpse and passed his hand back and forth over the head.

"She was bonded with a very powerful spell," he observed, more to himself than anything. "No doubt the side effects of being fused with such dark magic would have been…erratic to say the least. How very…_intriguing_."

He would have liked a little more time to muse over the discovery, but Tanny moved into action, sneaking a hand past him to rifle through the discarded robe. She tried to keep her eyes on her task, but couldn't help glancing up at the body every now and then. Every time she touched a damp, bloody spot on the clothing the girl gave a small whimper but continued her search. Finally, after picking through every shred Skeletor had destroyed Tanny sat up with an exclamation and a small silver chain dangling from her fingers.

"Found it! See, I told you--"

"Give me that!" Skeletor snapped, snatching the amulet from her.

He turned the stone over in his palm and stared at it, wondering how such a small thing could carry such immense power. The stone itself was indeed tiny, and a beautiful green. It was also sorely unremarkable and might have been mistook for any sort of costume jewelry. It shone gaily despite the lack of good light, tempting Skeletor to hang it around his neck. Would he immediately become immortal, or did the process take time? Maybe immortality only came with a steep price, such as the loss of magical abilities. Only time and careful testing would be able to tell for certain, and though Skeletor despised being made to wait rushing into something as important and life-changing as using the amulet's power was a risk he was not willing to take.

He merely pocketed it the necklace and made to leave. Tanny rose and hurried after him, perhaps hoping he would be able to take her back to her parents. If he saw her tagging along three steps behind his billowing cape, he gave no acknowledgement. As far as he was concerned, the whole mission was done and over with and he and his minions could return to Snake Mountain with their prize.

_**So eager to leave, so soon after your arrival? So sad, make me cry…**_

The voice came booming from everywhere at once, causing Tanny to scream and cover her ears. Skeletor raised his Havoc Staff and cursed roundly. That voice…he recognized it.

Mortiferus was alive.


End file.
